The Unluckiest Thief
by QuaggaTheMighty
Summary: Sabine Russoric's luck has officially run out. It's not enough for the Divines that she lost her job as an Infiltrator, and has been arrested for fraud. Now she finds herself thrust into a Cyrodiil that stands on the brink of destruction, given a task by an Emperor she's never followed for a quest she never wanted. The fate of Tamriel is now in her reluctant grasp.*Cursing/Violence
1. Chapter 1: Rock Bottom

**Evening, 27 of Last Seed, 3E433**

 _'And here I sit,'_ Sabine Russoric sat on the stool in the back corner of her miserably damp cell, looking around tiredly as she leaned onto the rickety table before her, chin resting in her hand. ' _So much for 'job security'. Damned elf. Sold me off for a bag of septims first chance he got,'_ she sneered to no one in particular, glaring at the floor near the bars to the cell. ' _Master Rinauld always used to brag that those born under the Thief were lucky. Shows what she knows.'_

She looked up when someone called out from outside her cell. Tiredly, almost bored, she stood, wrist irons clinking faintly against the table as she rose to her feet. As she neared her bars and peered across the dimly lit hall, she saw movement behind the bars of the cell across from hers. She squinted, leaning a little closer to the bars, and a scrawny-looking Dunmer came into view. He crossed his arms defensively and looked her over with a smirk. Losing interest, Sabine let go of the bars and copied his posture, leaning against the wall to stare across at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Pale skin, snotty expression.. You're a Breton. 'Masters of magicka, right?" He snickered looking her over with a leer. "You don't look like much to me. Just a stuck-up harlot with some cheap parlor tricks." When she rolled her eyes, he bristled. "Go ahead," he taunted. "Make those bars disappear."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment. Sabine decided he wasn't worth answering, and sat down on the step at the front of her cell, leaning her head back against the wall.

"No?" The Dunmer male taunted again. "What's the matter? Not so powerful now, are you Breton?" He let out another laugh when she sighed in annoyance. "You're not leaving this prison 'til they throw your body in the lake!"

Sabine heard a faint creaking of metal, and her head snapped up. She leaned forward and peered toward the stairs, trying to make out the sounds coming from the floor above. The prisoner across the hall seemed to think he had gotten the better of her, and continued talking.

"Oh, that's right. You're going to _die_ in here, Breton!"

"Will you shut up?" She finally hissed at him. "I can't hear what's going on."

He sneered at her as the sounds of heavy boot steps came closer. "You hear that?" He snapped, and she had the distinct desire to carve his tongue out of his mouth. "The guards are coming. For _you_!"

Sabine jumped to her feet and leaned to the side, peering up the darkened stairs that led to the main level of the prison. "Shut up!" she hissed again.

She frowned, taking an involuntary step back from the entrance to her cell. Those weren't prison guards. Their armor was too fine, too ornate. And they had an old man with him. Sabine's eyes widened, and she staggered away from the door, bumping into the table hard enough to send the tan pitcher on it clattering to the floor, spilling what precious water remained inside it across the damp and cold floor. She was too busy staring at the rich purple robes of the old man before her, the authoritative air he gave off. She had never seen him in person before.

 _The Emperor_.

What in Oblivion was he doing in the Imperial Prisons? Surely it wasn't common practice for the leader of the Empire to wander damp dungeons in his finery.

"What's this prisoner doing in here?" The woman before him snapped at one of the other men in ornate armor. Sabine frowned slightly and looked closer at the design as the woman continued speaking. "This cell's supposed to be _off limits_!"

"U-Usual mix up at the Watch," the man stammered, "I..."

The woman scoffed, cutting off his near-excuse. "Just get this cell open!" she ordered in a very clipped tone, and the third man stepped forward, unlocking Sabine's cell door with a heavy-looking key.

He looked up at her, still pressed against the battered table in her cell. In the glimmering torchlight, the ornamentation on his armor came into view, and Sabine recognized the dragon crest on his helmet.

 _'The Emperor's personal guard?'_ She stared back at him with wide eyes. _'What are they doing with the Emperor?'_

The third man spoke, his voice deep and his eyes suspicious. "Get back against the wall, _prisoner._ " He spat the word as though it were something foul. "We won't hesitate to _kill_ you if you get in our way."

Sabine didn't hesitate to back farther toward the rear of her cell, pressing herself into the corner as the three Blades, and the Emperor, entered her tiny cell. Water dripped from the crack in the ceiling, leaving a cold trail as it dripped down the back of her neck. The other male Blade came forward and stood not far away, close enough to ensure she made no sudden moves, but not close enough to touch.

"Just stay put," he said gently, as the woman fiddled with the pillar on the wall of her cell. Sabine's eyes widened when the woman pulled the pillar out, causing a section of wall to fall back and drop into the floor.

The woman grunted in satisfaction and motioned for the Emperor to step forward. "Better not close this one," she said. "No way to open it again from the other side."

' _This one?'_ Sabine wondered briefly how many other secret passages the Emperor and his entourage had been through that day.

"Wait," called an old, but still regal, voice. The assembly halted as the Emperor stepped forward, placing a hand on the shoulder of the man before Sabine. When he moved aside, the old ruler addressed her directly.

"You," he said quietly, staring at her as though he saw a ghost. "I've seen you before. Let me see your face." He beckoned her to take a step forward. When she did so, the light from the bars at the back of her cell shone dim light down on her. The Emperor took a deep breath. "You are the one from my dreams. Then the stars were right, and this is the day." He looked around the cell solemnly, then sighed. More to himself than to her, he murmured, "Gods give me strength."

Sabine frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Assassins attacked my sons, and I'm next. My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance, the entrance to that escape route leads through your cell."

Sabine's eyes widened, and she stepped back away from him again.

"Come," he said tiredly, but his smile was kind. "You may yet follow us for a while."

Sabine watched in surprise as the Emperor followed the angry woman through the now open passage in the wall of her cell. One of the remaining Blades sneered at her as he passed into the passage, but the last one regarded her with a nod.

"Looks like your lucky day, prisoner," he said dryly, motioning for her to follow. "Just stay out of our way and let us do our jobs, yeah?"

Sabine nodded numbly and hurried behind him, scrambling to keep up with the faint torchlight ahead of them, _'Perhaps my luck has not yet run out, after all,'_ she thought.

* * *

 **Pre-Dawn, 28 of Last Seed, 3E433**

 _'...I take it back.'_

Sabine sat on the edge of the dock outside the sewer exit of the Imperial prison, exhausted. She watched the sky begin to lighten in the east with disinterest, still thinking about the Emperor, his body lying in the sewer she had only just exited. She sighed, running a hand over her face as she stared at the gaudy red jewel in her lap.

 _''Close shut the jaws of Oblivion'?'_ She frowned. _'What in Mara's name did he mean by that?'_

She stared down at the Amulet again, her frown deepening. The first rays of light had begun to peer over the horizon, and the Amulet of Kings seemed to glow in her lap, as though made of fire. She looked out across the water, away from City Isle, then back to the top of the hill, where the Imperial City sat.

She sighed. _'First things first. I'll need to get some better gear if I'm going to walk all the way to Chorrol from here. Weynon Priory is a two day walk away.'_ She grit her teeth and stowed the Amulet away under her shirt. _'In any case, once the Amulet is out of my hands, so is the rest of this mess.'_

Her scowl deepened as she climbed the hill behind the Imperial Prison. _'The assassination of an Emperor. And under the Blades' watch, no less!'_ She shook her head. _'I want nothing to do with this. If they wanted me to get involved in all this, they shouldn't have thrown me in jail!'_ She kicked a nearby rock, sending it skittering down into Lake Rumare. _'Damn that Phillida! After all the 'cleaning up' I've done on his payroll!'_ She kicked another rock. _'What's the matter, Adamus? Getting paranoid in your old age, are we? Well, you can take your Dark Brotherhood obsession and blow it out your backside! I hope they slaughter you in your bed!'_

Sabine continued to fume until she reached the bridge that connected the Prison to the main circle of the city. She hopped over the low wall that lined the side of the bridge and trudged toward the city. At the tall, heavy doors, she sighed.

"At least he doesn't know what I look like," she muttered to herself, and heaved against one of the doors, then slipped inside while saying a silent prayer of thanks for the requirement of wearing a mask while working. At least any wanted posters that appeared would lack decent descriptions.

* * *

 **Midday, 28 Last Seed, 3E433**

The Imperial City Market District was _crawling_ with soldiers. Every time a man in heavy Legion armor acknowledged her or passed by too close, Sabine held her breath. She shifted uneasily in her mismatched leather armor, keenly aware of the weight of the wrist irons in the bottom of her salvaged pack. She had to find somewhere to ditch them. But where?

Her eyes lit on a stack of barrels and crates nearby. She waited for the patrolling legionnaire to pass by, then stood in front of one of the crates. She deftly pulled the wrist irons out of her pack and lifted the lid of the crate behind her. As soon as it was open wide enough, she dumped the irons inside and dropped the lid back down. A faint tinkling sound was heard, and she frowned, turning her head toward the crate. She reopened the lid to see several loose Septims laying in the bottom of the crate, and scooped them up without hesitation.

 _'Now_ that's _more like it!'_ She thought to herself with a grin, then looked around at the other boxes and barrels nearby. _'I wonder if there are any more...'_

After nearly an hour's scrounging, Sabine managed to find decent enough clothing to replace her ratty prison wear, and almost thirty Septims. As she leaned over the rim of a barrel close to a side alley, reaching for an apple from the bottom of the barrel, she felt something sharp against her back.

"Give up the coin and I won't gut you like a fish," a gruff make voice hissed in her ear.

Sabine stiffened and straightened up slowly, then turned around. The blade slid to her throat, and she stared up into the filthy, pock-marked face of a Redguard with the end of his nose cut off, giving him a strangely flattened appearance. She blinked owlishly at him for a moment, and he curled his lip into a snarl.

"I saw you digging those septims outta them barrels," he snapped, eyes flashing. "Give 'em here. And anything else you got, scrounger."

When Sabine didn't move quickly enough for his liking, he jerked the pack off her bag and tore the money pouch off the front. She cringed when the movement tore a hole in the bag, and the light caught on something red and shining inside it. The Redguard grinned at her and pushed her farther back against the barrel, then dug the Amulet of Kings out of her sack and held it up to the light.

"Well now." He spat a large quantity of something brown out onto the cobblestones by her feet. "Where'd ya get this at, then?"

Sabine felt her stomach drop into her shoes, and tried to protest. "Hey, you can't just—"

The knife went back to her throat, and she closed her mouth. The Redguard shoved her now empty pack back into her chest, then crammed her gold and the amulet into the chest pocket of his jerkin.

"You'll keep yer mouth shut if ya know what's good for ya," he snapped, then shoved her down onto the cobblestones and stalked away, stowing the knife back into its sheath.

Panic seized Sabine as she struggled to her feet. She looked around wildly, "Hey, wait! Thief!" She turned around and around, then slumped her shoulders. The bastard had disappeared into the crowd. Farther down the street, she caught sight of the gleaming armor of a Captain of the Watch, and ran toward him. Surely as a paid guard he would be willing to help.

* * *

 **Oh, if only you knew, Sabine. You poor girl.**

 **A/N: Just a little something that occurred to me while starting a new character in The Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivion. Sabine will be going through the Main Quest, but with several changes, and a few headcanons.**

 **Please tell me what you think! Comments, favs, and follows are all welcome!**

 **Cover Image Credit: "The Amulet of Kings - Finished" by drowsysnarkfish over at Deviant Art**


	2. Chapter 2: Unfriendly Competition

Midday, 28 Last Seed, 3E433

"What do you mean you can't _do_ anything?" Sabine barely kept herself from shouting as she stared incredulously at the Watch Captain. Avidius, or something.

The balding Imperial glared back at her, his right hand twitching toward the silver warhammer on his back. He spoke in low, careful tones as he sized her up.

"The thief's long gone," he sneered. "You said yourself you lost him in the crowd. With only a generic description to go by, do you _honestly_ expect me to hunt him down in the _Imperial City_? And over _thirty gold_? You're lucky I don't fine you for wasting my time." He caught her wrist and gave her a rough shove back toward a row of shops. "Get out of my sight, scrounger."

Sabine staggered into the statue before her, then looked back to see that he was still watching her. Eager to escape his gaze, and hopefully find someone willing to help her, Sabine hurried toward the nearest shop and ducked inside.

 _'Gods_ damn _these Imerials!'_ she thought angrily, rubbing her wrist where the man's armor had pinched her. She'd probably have a bruise there later. _'I can't very well go to Weynon Priory without the Amulet, and that bastard's sure to have gotten away with it now.'_

She looked around the shop, for some time, then glanced out the window. She didn't see the watchman anywhere, so it might be safe to leave. After a brief nod to the shopkeeper, a Nordic woman with a rather severe expression, Sabine ducked back out into the street. She glanced up at the sign above the doorway to the shop with a snort.

 _'Jensine's 'Good as New' Merchandise, eh? Looked like mostly junk to me.'_ she shook her head and looked around for any containers she'd missed in her earlier search.

"Excuse me," came a deep voice to her right, and Sabine nearly jumped out of her skin.

She turned around to see a rather sheepish looking Orc with a mostly shaved head digging the toe of his shoe into the cobblestones at his feet. She tilted her head to one side and studied him. He gave a faint smile behind his tusks and cleared his throat.

"I don't suppose you could spare a coin or two?" His small eyes were hopeful. "That bastard Watchman shook me down and took my last septim."

The handful of septims in Sabine's hand felt oddly heavy, and she handed over three of them with a sigh. The Orc's face lit up immediately, and he all but fell to his knees in thanks.

"Blessings of Akatosh upon ye," he grovelled. "I don't get paid until tomorrow, and I was afraid I'd have to wait til then to eat! My name's Luronk. I can't thank you enough!"

"What was that about a Watchman shaking you down?" Sabine asked, frowning at him.

The Orc glowered. "The bastard took every coin I had with me. I don't know his name, but I know his face. Ruslan and I were shopping at Jensine's when he accused us of stealing. We turned out our pockets to prove we were innocent, but he didn't care. We had to pay the ' _fine'_ or he was going to march us off to jail."

"That's awful." Sabine shoved her remaining septims in her pocket as she turned to fully face Luronk. "Why didn't Jensine report him or say something?"

He shrugged, staring down at the gleaming septims in his fingers as though he held a fortune in his hands. "He's shaken down most of the shopkeepers in the Market District. They're all too afraid of him to do anything. Jensine wouldn't even talk about it." His face darkened as he put the septims away. "Someone ought to do something about him."

"They certainly should." Sabine nodded her head, glancing back toward the shop she'd left earlier. She looked back at Luronk. "Will that be enough to do you?"

He nodded emphatically. "Yes, yes. I can buy some bread at the Feed Bag with this. Oh, thank you again!" As he turned to leave, he looked around, as though checking for the Watchman. "I'm going to keep a low profile for a while. Don't want him to take this, too."

Sabine waved to him as he left, then looked back at Jensine's shop with a curious frown. Maybe the Watchman that shook down Luronk was the same one that threatened her? She turned back to the barrel before her and removed the clothing and glassware she'd found, then started for the shop.

 _'It's worth a shot,'_ she admitted, holding on to her bundle as she wove between the crowds. _'Maybe I can at least make some more coin. After all, according to common report, 'you can sell almost_ anything _at Jensine's'.'_

* * *

Evening, 28 Last Seed, 3E433

Sabine left the shop again that evening, staring up at the sky and hating the Gods and everything they stood for.

 _'How do I keep getting roped into these things?'_ She thought miserably. She began trudging slowly in the direction of The Copious Coinpurse with a huff. The damned Nord wouldn't even _speak_ to her about the Watchman until Sabine agreed to look into some shifty merchant who had better prices.

 _'Is this really what I've fallen to?'_ She grumbled to herself. _'A hired thug?'_

She sighed and pulled open the door to the shop, then looked around with raised eyebrows. She had to admit, there was one hell of a selection. An almost irritatingly cheerful Bosmer perked up to see her and leaned on the counter as he spoke.

"Welcome, welcome! What kind of deal can I make for you today?"

Sabine jumped a little for effect, then approached the counter with a smile. "Sorry about that. I didn't even see you. I was too busy looking at your rather impressive inventory. You have quite the selection."

The Bosmer, who she could only assume was Thoronir, beamed back. "Well thank you! It's not only a fine assortment of goods, but a bit of a treasure trove; you never know what I'll have in stock." He gave a conspiratorial wink as he continued. "I can see by the look on your face you wonder where I get all these _fantastic_ items. I'll tell you what I tell everyone else who asks. It's all about _who you know_. My sources are good, but they are secret." He waved his hand toward the store with another beaming smile. "Anyway, have fun looking around, and when you are ready to buy, give me a shout. **"**

Sabine gave a short nod and wandered the shop for a while, pausing to look closer at some of the clothing he had for sale. She frowned a little to see dirt on the hem of one of the skirts, but kept her expression hidden from the watchful shopkeeper. After browsing for a bit, she glanced toward the windows and saw the sky beginning to turn a rosy color.

 _'Well, I don't know what Jensine expected to find, but none of the things here are even_ worth stealing _.'_ She shook her head slightly, then her gaze fell onto an empty rucksack, still in good repair. Her own torn and ratty sack would barely do as a cleaning cloth. Next to the new sack sat several loaves of fresh bread. Her stomach growled. That bastard thief had taken everything she'd found earlier. After a brief moment of hesitation, she picked the items up and carried them to the counter, where the shopkeep waited with a satisfied grin.

* * *

She sat on the stone base of one of the statues about an hour or two later, munching on her still warm bread and watching the sun set over the walls of the city. She took a particularly large bite, savoring the flavorful crust and soft inside, when she looked over and saw Thoronir doing a very poor attempt at creeping about.

 _'Well, what have we got here?'_ She crammed the last bit of bread into her mouth and dropped down off the edge of the statue, slinking back to wait in the shadows. She watched with vague amusement as Thoronir's head jerked in every direction, looking vaguely like a rat caught in a trap. Once he was satisfied no one was watching his erratic movements, he hurried along a side street and disappeared into one of the small gardens near the sewer entrance.

Her curiosity piqued, Sabine kept up with him effortlessly, doing a much better job at staying out of sight than the twitchy shopkeeper. He finally stopped behind an old well, where a blond Nord man in brown clothes was waiting.

"That you, Agamir?" Thoronir called in a too-loud voice that trembled slightly.

" _Not so_ l _oud_! How many times have I told you that?" The Nord hissed back.

"Sorry." Thoronir spoke in a quieter, but still nervous voice. "I am not used to this kind of meeting. It makes me nervous."

"Well, just shut up and listen to me," Agamir snapped back. "The next shipment will be sooner than I expected. Just have the money ready."

Thoronir looked a little annoyed, even in the dim light. " _Same_ assortment of things? I mean, I have enough clothing for now."

Agamir stood a little closer and jabbed a finger into Thoronir's chest. " _You take what I get._ I get notice at the last second, and I have to jump on it. No time to be picky about it."

Thoronir stepped back a bit, and looked around nervously again, making Sabine shrink back a bit. He shook his head. "Well, that Society has been putting more pressure on me. Maybe we should cut back for a while."

Agamir's face was livid, and his eyes shined with a dangerous light. "You cut back now and I'll take my business elsewhere. Or maybe pay a visit to that _Jensine_ and tell her about your little scheme."

 _'Well_ that _was a loaded threat if I ever heard one.'_ Sabine rolled her eyes as she continued watching.

Thoronir bristled. " _Fine_. You made your point. Contact me when you have the items, and we'll meet again."

Agamir's tone was chillingly cold. "Don't worry. It'll be _very_ soon. Now get outta here."

Sabine watched from her hiding place at the edge of the garden as the two men parted ways. _'Looks like this 'Agamir' fellow is the brains of the operation. I wonder where he's headed.'_

She crept out of the bushes and began following the Nord as he left the Market District.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey! I just wanted to say thanks for following, and let everyone know that I'll be leaving notes like these at the bottom of all chapters here-on out, to say thanks, answer questions, and give updates. I kept thinking this chapter was too short, but it's hit my word count goal (1600 words) and passed it by another 170, so I figured I'd do this bit in two parts.**

 **You might have noticed that she's doing a quest available in the Imperial City, called _Unfriendly Competition_. Just like the Emperor's dialogue in the first chapter, the NPC script is straight from the game, save for a few story-relevant changes. Even though this is fan-fiction, I wanted to stay as close to the source material as possible, so I looked up gameplay videos and transcribed the dialogue down that I needed. I'll be doing this with some of the other in-game quests that Sabine gets herself into, and I've been scrolling through the wiki for ideas.**

 **I even found a few 'cut quests' or miscellaneous easter eggs that look like fun, so be on the lookout for those later on. I'm not sure yet where Sabine will end up, but she _will_ eventually make her way to the Main Quest. When she does, I'll be sure to update and tag the relevant characters in the description.**

 **Thanks again for reading! And don't forget to Fav/Follow/Comment!**


	3. Chapter 3: Manifests and Mulligans

Pre-Dawn 29 Last Seed, 3E433

Sabine finally sat down on a low wall in the Talos Plaza District, stretching out her sore muscles and looking at the door across the street. Agamir had wandered halfway across the city before finally settling in at home, and she was sure now it was nearly dawn. Torchlight caught her attention down the street to her left, and Sabine rolled over the wall, ducking down out of sight as a guard came into view. She watched him from her shadowy corner between two buildings as he rattled by in heavy armor, then rounded the corner and dropped out of sight.

 _'Well, I'm here._ Now _what?'_ she thought dully. It had seemed all well and good when she'd begun the chase, but now it was late, she was tired, and there was no telling when the sour-faced man would leave. She sighed, settling herself in for a long and boring watch with a wide yawn. _'Too bad I can't delegate this to an underling anymore. Keeping sketch was always the most boring part of the job.'_

* * *

Sabine jolted awake from her hiding place some time later, to hear a familiar gruff voice snarling to someone nearby. She peered out of the bushes in front of her hiding place, then breathed a sigh of relief. Agamir appeared to be leaving his house, and she overheard him grumbling to an Imperial – she assumed it to be his neighbor, as he was standing beside the next door house – that he would be gone for several hours.

 _'Perfect,'_ she thought, waiting patiently for the two of them to disappear from view.

Agamir stalked off to the left, and the Imperial strolled away to the right. Sabine gave them a moment to be well away, then peered out around the street. When she saw no one, save the guard at the end of the street, she eased over the half wall again and pretended to wander aimlessly toward Agamir's door. While leaning against the door frame casually, she pulled a pick out of her pocket and began quietly jiggling the handle. Another moment or two, and the door swung open behind her. She glanced around once more, then slipped inside, closing the door behind her as she looked around.

"What a mess," she muttered quietly, staring at the odds and ends scattered about the main floor.

It was indeed. Bolts of fabric were crammed into one corner, next to an open barrel of what appeared to be farming tools of some kind and several shovels. Across from the front door sat a sort of larder, with whole gourds and pumpkins just lying on the floor. Several sacks of grain had been shoved beneath a cupboard, which in turn was loaded down by a basket of cabbages placed on its top. Sabine looked around at it all with great boredom, picking up an apple and taking a large bite. She glanced over to the stairs, then shrugged, making her way up.

 _'Might as well start at the top,'_ she supposed, still eating her apple.

Most Imperial built houses were set up the same way, with a bedroom on the top floor, social rooms or shopfront in the center, and a basement or storage room at the bottom. She also knew, from more _personal_ experience, that many of the center homes in the Imperial City also had sewer access, though it was unlikely that Agamir's would be so connected. Still, she knew it would be best to work methodically, rather than at random. Better chance of turning up something worthwhile. At the top of the stairs, she gave a quiet huff to find the upstairs door locked.

 _'Why do city folk always lock_ every _door in their house?'_ She wondered to herself, fishing out the lockpick again. A few mental curses later, and she had the door open. _'It never does them any good. . .'_

The upstairs bedroom was just as disappointing as the main floor. Save for a few septims found scattered across the desk, Sabine found _nothing_ of interest. She sighed and made her way back downstairs.

 _'If the basement is as empty as the other two floors, I'm screwed,'_ she thought dully, tossing her apple core into a trash barrel close to the front door.

As she passed the bursting larder again, she lifted a hunk of bread from its place, then pulled out her picks again. She held the piece of bread in her mouth as she picked the lock, then stowed the picks back in her pocket as she continued her pilfered meal. She hesitated for a moment when she saw the eerily dark stairs. Did Agamir not use this portion of his house?

At the middle landing on the stairs, the dank, wet air of the basement hit her nose, causing her to cover the lower portion of her face with both hands. She gagged, her bread forgotten where it had fallen to the floor. The cloying, putrid air burned her eyes, and she pulled up the collar of her shirt over her nose, as though she could block out the smell. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, the source of the smell became disgustingly clear.

Several small mounds of bone meal were scattered across and beneath the closest table, along with several pairs of clothes that looked to have dirt caked along the hem.

 _'Necromancy?'_ Sabine gagged again, forcing herself farther into the basement. She moved toward another stack of clothing and tripped over something in the floor, then looked down. A skull? By the Nine. . .

" _Grave robbery,"_ she murmured quietly, staring around her in revulsion. Over on a corner table was a collection of candles, nearly burned out. In the center of these candles, was a book, caked with dirt and gods only knew what else. Tentatively, Sabine lifted the heavy wooden cover, and was disgusted anew. Lists of names, dates, locations, and belongings filled the pages. Were these the people whose things lay around her? What sort of macabre manifest was this?

She looked around for a moment, then grabbed a discarded shirt from one of the piles nearby, wrapping the book up inside it and tucking it into her pack. She wondered if Thoronir knew where his 'inventory' had come from, and resolved to show him herself.

* * *

Mid-Afternoon 29 Last Seed, 3E433

Thoronir stared at the manifest she'd shown him with a growing look of horror. He swallowed once or twice before speaking. "I… can't believe what I'm seeing in this book. I'm _mortified_. To think, the things here were once on the bodies of the _recently deceased_ …" He stared around at his shop and turned a little green. "It's just too horrible to comprehend. I don't even know what to say." He looked up at Sabine. "I suppose an apology isn't enough, is it? What can I do?"

"Help me catch Agamir," Sabine said sternly. "This has to end."

"Yes!" The little Bosmer agreed eagerly. "That's the _least_ I can do." He drew himself up to his full height and spoke imperiously from behind his wooden counter. "First and foremost, I will never meet with him again, I can promise you that." He shuddered when he looked around the shop again. "Secondly, I remember him saying he had somewhere to be this very day." He frowned. "Hmm… Yes, that's right. He said that he 'wouldn't be able to do anything else, as he had something important to do' elsewhere in the city."

Thoronir paused here to look disgusted. "You don't think he would dig up another… oh, no he couldn't. But, I guess he has been." He looked vaguely ill again. "Oh my, what have I _done?"_

Sabine waved off his protestations irritably. "I'll stop him, stop panicking."

"Yes. You do that." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and put it to the lower portion of his face, swallowing again. "And in the meantime, I will decide what to do with all these… ill-gotten things." I'm _so sorry_. I had no idea."

As she turned and exited the shop, Sabine could hear Thoronir mumbling to himself and making small choked noises, as though forcing down bile. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn't help snorting a laugh as she pulled the door shut behind her. There was no way that twitchy little rabbit had been in on the scheme. Now, to find Agamir.

' _Something important to do, elsewhere in the city'.'_ She mulled over Thoronir's words for a moment. ' _The last name in his 'manifest' was from here in the Imperial City. If he's digging up another body, I suppose that means he's in the Palace District, where all of the mausoleums and tombs are.'_ She glanced down at the meager blade at her waist and hoped it was enough. Agamir likely wouldn't go down without a fight.

Sabine made her way through the city until she stood on a path lined on either side with ancient graves. She glanced around for a moment, then paused. There were fresh footprints in the damp earth on one side. She pressed her lips together in a thin line and followed the trail toward one of the mausoleums.

She looked up at the nameplate above the door. ' _The Trentius Family? Never heard of them.'_ She glanced back down at the disturbed earth outside the mausoleum, then at the door. Bits of wax had crumbled and broken off, and now lay scattered about the stone threshold. ' _It's been unsealed. Given how few footprints there are outside, I doubt this is a Trentius funeral. Agamir must be inside.'_

She drew her sword and eased open the door, peering down the steps. Agamir stood down at the other end of the clean, recently lit chamber with a man she'd never seen before. They were both well-armed, and not for the first time, Sabine wished she had a bow. Multiple targets at close range had never been her strong suit. She pressed herself against one darkened wall and crept forward, hoping to sneak up on them. Perhaps if she had the element of surprise…

"I had a feeling you'd catch on sooner or later." Agamir looked over toward the door and sneered at her, stopping her cold where she crouched beside the first set of pillars. "That's why I've had this little trap prepared for you. If you notice, the grave is already dug."

He gestured behind him, to where one of the tombs had been broken open, and Sabine cursed herself inwardly. She'd forgotten to lock the door after she'd found the book. Of _course_ he'd noticed someone had been there.

He continued on, a cold grin settling on his face. "This time, it wasn't to take something away. It was to _add_ something. I'm afraid all I can offer you is an unmarked grave."

A sickening feeling settled in Sabine's stomach, and she had just enough time to raise her sword before Agamir lunged. His blade seemed to glow red when it made contact with hers, and she struggled to hold him off. The man with him drew his sword and stepped forward to swing at her, and Sabine was forced to jump back before she was skewered. Agamir staggered forward from the sudden loss of resistance, and she stabbed out blindly, hoping to drive him back. He howled with rage when the tip of her blade cut his cheek, a trickle of red trailing down the side of his face. His associate lunged forward next, but was slowed by his heavy armor. Sabine backed up again, her heel hitting the bottom step leading into the mausoleum. When the heavily armored man moved too far forward, she took a deep breath and dodged around him, narrowly missing the end of his blade as he took a wide swing at her.

Agamir caught her arm as she tried to move past, and she jerked hard, trying to free herself. Without thinking, she brought the end of her blade up and into his chest, piercing the cloth of his shirt with ease. He made a strange, strangled sound and coughed wetly. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as his grip on her arm relaxed. She snatched his sword from his slackened fingers and wrenched her own blade free from his rib cage, gasping for air. It was all she could do to hold the blades steady against the trembling of her limbs as the man in heavy armor stared down at Agamir's dying form. When he looked back up at Sabine, his face was scrunched up in fury, and he lunged again, roaring wildly.

She dove to one side, dodging behind a pillar as his sword clanged against the stone with enough force to cleave a chunk away. He pulled back to swing the blade again, but it was stuck fast in the pillar. Sabine glanced down at her blood-drenched blade for only a moment, then jumped forward and drove the tip of the blade into the gap in his helmet, letting out a strangled cry when her leather-clad torso collided with his steel cuirass. The combination of the attack and her sudden weight against him sent the man sprawling to the ground, and Sabine's sweaty hands lost her grip on her sword. She rolled off of the man and slid across the stone with a groan. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she struggled to catch her breath as she glanced up at him.

He lay, unmoving, in a growing pool of dark red. Her sword stuck out of the front of his helmet at an odd angle, and she could see blood pouring from the edges of the helmet. Her arms trembled, and her stomach turned, making her retch painfully onto the stone. The heaving lasted for several minutes, and she lifted the hem of her shirt to see a growing purple splotch spreading across her abdomen.

' _Gods, that was too close.'_

She dragged herself over to the dead associate and gave the sword in his face a hard tug. She pulled harder, grunting against the strain, but it wouldn't budge. Holding her breath against the metallic smell cloying her lungs, she leaned down and peered into the helmet. The cheap, rusty blade had become bent and distorted during the fight, and it seemed to be caught on the heavy visor. She sighed and released the handle. She wouldn't be getting that back, and she wasn't sure she even _wanted_ it after seeing what it was covered in. She wrinkled her nose and leaned away from the body, looking over the rest of him. She found a small sack with a few septims in it, but nothing else of interest. There was no way she could lug that heavy suit of armor or the man's massive sword around, and she wouldn't know what to do with it if she did. She turned her attention back to Agamir, nudging him slightly with her foot.

' _Well, he'd have died anyway. Graverobbers always do when they get caught.'_ She scoffed quietly at the twisted justice of it all as she went through his pockets. A few loose septims, an apple she most definitely would _not_ be eating, and the key to the mausoleum door. She pulled the scabbard off of his waist, then looked around for the sword. Given the wreck of her last sword, she hoped his would prove more durable. After she'd secured the blade to her own belt, she looked around the mausoleum. Best not to handle the bodies too much, though she'd have to find _some_ sort of evidence to prove his wrongdoing, especially now that he couldn't be interrogated. She huffed, making her way to the open sarcophagus. Something clattered when she hit it with her boot, and she looked down. A beaten-up old shovel, caked with dirt and bits of bone lay on the floor before her. She snorted when she saw Agamir had roughly carved his _name_ into the handle.

' _Well, that will certainly do the job.'_ She picked it up, then looked around again. ' _I wonder what else is here. . .'_

She had no intention of following in Agamir's footsteps and cracking open the coffins, but she wouldn't turn down any monetary or jewelry offerings left lying around by visitors or kinship. After all, anything that turned up missing would simply be blamed on the grave robbers. After a few minutes, she hadn't turned up any gold, but there _was_ a rather nice mace in a corner beside the open grave. She gave it a few swings, then nodded in satisfaction. Much better than her old weapon, and the spiked surface was sure to do much more damage. She attached the mace to her belt beside the sword and glanced around one more time, then left the mausoleum.

' _Time to return to Thoronir, then collect my money from Jensine. This had_ better _be worthwhile.'_

* * *

 **A/N: Long chapter this time, and a long time since my last update, holy crap! Sorry about the long wait, I hope this 2800 word chapter helps to make up for it a little. _We have an action scene now!_ Now we're actually getting into the adventuring parts! And I found all my notes, so I'm going to try and start updating this again. **

**I wanted to ask, too, while I'm here: What do you guys think about her 'thoughts' and internal commentary? I'm kind of enjoying writing them myself, but that doesn't really matter if readers don't like it. Leave me a comment and let me know what you think, and I'll adjust accordingly in future chapters.**


	4. Chapter 4: An Unexpected Voyage

Late Evening 29th Last seed, 3E433

Jensine was beaming when Sabine entered the shop. "I have been anxiously awaiting your return," she said with genuine cheer. There was no trace of the stuffy, angry-looking Nord she had met upon her first entry to the shop.

' _Funny how easy people's moods change when there's coin involved.'_ Sabine scoffed to herself as she limped to the counter. Her body ached where she had collided with that bastard's armor in the mausoleum, and every step caused shooting pains all down her left side. She reeked of blood and sweat, and there was still graveyard dirt caked under her broken nails. While Jensine prattled away, oblivious to everything except the shovel Sabine had recovered and some talk or other to do with her society, Sabine allowed herself to daydream about a hot bath and a warm bed. It wasn't until Jensine's tone changed suddenly that she jerked back to full attention.

"I'm sure you're waiting to hear about your reward," the shopkeeper said at last, and Sabine nodded tiredly. The woman produced a coinpurse from below the counter and held it out to her. "We at the Society thank you greatly for your help. Please, take this gold with our gratitude."

Sabine plucked the purse from the woman's fingers and gave it a subtle squeeze, trying to gauge its worth without being rude about it.

After a moment, she stuffed the purse in her pocket and sighed. " _Now_ can we talk about the watchman?"

Jensine bristled, then slumped her shoulders. "I suppose after what you've done I have no choice. Yes, he was here. Audens Avidius is the one you're looking for. Ruslan and Luronk really should keep their mouths shut."

"If the watchman is corrupt, why don't you stand up against him? Surely one of the other captains would be willing to listen."

Jensine snorted. "And get thrown in jail? No thanks." She narrowed her eyes at Sabine. "Go talk to those two louts if you want someone to stick their necks out. I'm not getting involved in this. Now either buy something or get out."

Sabine stared at her in disbelief for a moment, then turned on her heel and stomped out of the shop, slamming the door soundly behind her. ' _Useless wench.'_ She took a few breaths to calm herself as she walked toward one of the District gates, then flagged down a patrolling guard.

"Can you help me? I'm looking for a Watch Captain." She did her best to look innocently hopeful.

The guard studied her for a moment, then pointed toward the opposite set of doors. "Uh… Captain Quintilius is patrolling down by the Waterfront."

"Thank you." She flashed him a bright smile and walked away, then rolled her eyes once she was no longer facing him. ' _He barely looked bright enough to light a torch. I hope this Quintilius fellow is a little smarter.'_

She stopped at the Gilded Carafe for a healing potion first, then made her way to the Waterfront. When the smell of fish and wood rot hit her, she knew she'd found it, her nose wrinkling in distaste. A quick glance around the docks didn't even turn up any guards, so she made her way to one end of the wall and walked through one of the arches there. Servatius Quintilius was easy enough to find, as he stood outside the rundown and dilapidated structures of the Waterfront District in his gleaming armor.

When she approached, he turned to look at her with raised eyebrows. "Can I help you?"

"I want to report a corrupt watchman—" She cut off when he began shaking his head.

"I'm sorry. I've not been here long. Only had the post for a few months you see. I don't want to cause any trouble."

She stared at him incredulously. "What sort of Captain is afraid to do their duties?"

He bristled indignantly. "Itius Hayn will be the fool you're looking for. I'm not risking my career for your attitude."

"Coward," she grumbled under her breath and stomped away. ' _If this 'Hayn' fellow blows me off too, I'll just remove Avidius myself.'_

A little asking around turned up Hayn's patrol route, and she flagged him down in Elven Gardens. After a little cajoling and petitioning, he finally agreed to take her charges seriously.

"You'll need two witnesses to come forward and back up your charges," he said. "These are very serious allegations you're making."

"Ruslan and Luronk," she said immediately. "They were the last ones shaken down at Jensine's, day before yesterday."

"Will Jensine testify?"

She shook her head with an annoyed expression. "Refuses to risk her business. She might be able to tell you more about them, though."

"Very well." He straightened up in his armor and nodded firmly. "I'll take care of it then." He studied her face for a moment. "Was there something else?"

Sabine sighed. "Two days ago I was robbed over in the Market District. I went to Avidius to file a report, but he shoved me off." She held out her arm to show the bruise left by his armor. "The coin I'm not so worried about, but there was an am— a necklace. A family heirloom," she lied easily. "It's gold with a big gaudy red gem in it, and it's really old. I was hoping there might still be a way to get it back."

"Come with me to file the report, and I'll make all of the necessary inquiries," he said solemnly. "It could take a couple of days to get any news, so you'll have to hang around the city for a while. I'd recommend the Bloated Float if you're still short on coin. Down at the waterfront."

She thanked him and followed the Captain to the Prison offices to make her report. She had the distinct impression it was going to be a long night.

* * *

' _I was right'_ , she thought miserably from her bed on the Bloated Float. ' _Even that daft inkeep was about to turn in for the night by the time I got here.'_

The faint creaking of the boat only seemed to add to her misery, though it was blessedly free of movement. She'd have a hard enough time getting to sleep without waves and sea storms knocking her about. Her stomach turned just thinking of it. She rolled over to face the wall of the bland little room and willed herself to go to sleep. Just a couple of days, and she'd be nearly done with all this 'heir' business.

Sleep eluded her for a long time. Now that she had nothing else to occupy her mind, it was filled with memories of her escape from the Imperial Prison. The old man's face swam before her eyes, the Amulet of Kings glinting accusingly at her in the dim light of the cavern. The way her body seemed to freeze when the assassin came out of the wall. Watching the Emperor fall.

She bolted upright with a gasp, cold sweat dripping down her neck. The old man's words seemed to echo around the room.

' _You are our only hope to stem the blood tide. Give me your hand. Remember me, and remember my words. This burden is now yours alone. You hold our future in your hands."_

She looked down at her hands, pale and shaking in the dim light of the cabin. The bruise on her wrist seemed starkly visible against her washed-out skin, and she clenched her hands into painfully tight fists to stop their trembling. She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, and tried to rise.

The boat rocked suddenly, and she tumbled to the floor with a squeak. She knelt there for a moment, feeling the gentle rocking beneath her, and turned a little green. Were they at sea? No, they _couldn't_ be…

She struggled to stand and retrieved her mace, then wrenched open the door to her cabin. A large man, twice as wide as she, blocked the door leading to the main deck. The boat rocked again, and she pressed her lips into a thin line. They certainly weren't anchored in the Waterfront anymore, that was for sure.

The man turned around and drew his sword. "Hey! You don't look like one of the Blackwater Brigands! Who in Oblivion are you?"

' _Blackwater Brigands?'_ Sabine filed the information away for later, then spoke. "I'm just a passenger. What's going on here?"

"What? I was told there are only _two_ others on board. I locked the bouncer in the storage room and she has the owner. So that leaves you. Now, I'll ask again. _Who are you?"_

Sabine sighed. "I'm a _passenger_. I rented a room on the boat for the night. But thank you for that… oddly informative outburst. I'll make good use of it, I'm sure."

"I don't like your attitude," he growled back. "I think instead of locking you in the storage room with the bouncer, I'm going to dump your body overboard."

Sabine had her mace ready before he could finish drawing his longsword from its sheathe, and she slammed the spiked end of it into his arm with a crack. He let out a howl and staggered back, his good hand clutching his now broken elbow. Sabine pulled the mace back again and slammed it into his skull, sending the body crumpling to the floor. She looked down at the bloody, dripping mace and nodded her head approvingly. This would do _much_ better than her battered sword from before. Rolling the body turned up a note from someone named 'S', and the key to the storage room. She considered unlocking the door, then shook her head. If the bouncer couldn't get away from this… 'Lynch', the note said his name was, then he should probably stay out of the way. She shook some of the blood off of her mace and made her way to the tavern deck, still nauseous from the rocking of the ship.

A pretty dark elf turned around when the door snapped shut behind Sabine, and narrowed her eyes. "Ho there! Where do you think you're going! Selene's not going to like this one bit... I wasn't to be disturbed!"

"Well, too bad," Sabine said in a mocking version of the Dunmer's tone. "I'm up here because of Lynch."

" _Lynch_ sent you up here? Why?" The Dunmer crossed her arms. "Did he send you up to talk to Selene?"

' _So that's who this_ S _is.'_ Sabine rolled her eyes. "That's right. I'm to assist her." She spoke as scathingly as possible.

The Dunmer, Minx, according to the note, put her hand on her sword. "She's got Ormil in the cabin just fine." Her eyes fell on the bloody mace half-hidden behind Sabine's back. "What's happened to Lynch?"

"He's dead," Sabine said simply, holding the mace at the ready.

"I always knew he was out of practice. Oh well, I'll be doing his job _as usual_." Minx drew her blade and lunged at Sabine with a yell.

Sabine dodged to the side, then hit Minx in the back with the mace. The Dunmer's leather armor caught the worst of the spikes, but the force sent her staggering forward. Before she could recover, Sabine stepped behind her and clubbed her over the head, sending a spray of red across the steps leading below deck.

"Some Brigands you're turning out to be," she grumbled under her breath. "I had worse trouble with that graverobber."

Searching Minx's body turned up another key, though she wasn't sure what this one was to. It didn't fit the lock on the door behind the bar, so she backed up and looked up at the top deck. ' _Must be that one.'_

She picked up Minx's sword and gave it a few swings, then made her way up the stairs. As soon as the door opened, a massive Nord stared down at her.

"Wha—? What are you doing up here? They find the 'Golden Galleon' yet?"

"No." Sabine looked him over, taking stock of the sword at his side. She wondered if he was a stupid as he looked, and tried a different tack. "I'm waiting for orders."

"Orders?" The big man frowned at her. "Selene didn't tell me about this, and I don't remember her taking on someone else to help us find the Gold Galleon. When did all this happen?"

Sabine snorted. "Three days ago. You hungover or something?"

"Damn that woman!" He kicked the banister of the ship, making it crack under his weight. "She promised a four part split when we recover the 'Golden Galleon'. She never said anything about splitting it _five ways!_ She said when we got back to the safe house in Bravil, we would divide the loot after she fenced the damn thing." He glared angrily at Sabine. "Do Lynch and Minx know about this?"

"Yeah." Sabine shrugged. "They're dead, though."

She swore she could almost see the gears creaking to life in his head as he thought it over.

"Well…," he said slowly, and she felt her intelligence dropping with every syllable, "if _they're_ out of the way, that's only a three-way split." He looked back at Sabine. "So if I kill you, that means I get half." He grinned maliciously, and Sabine tried not to groan. "This heist is getting better and better!"

He drew his sword and swung it in a wide arc. From his position at the top of the stairs, it was too high to make good contact, and Sabine ducked to avoid it. She landed behind the broken banister with her mace at the ready, and stabbed out with the pilfered sword. It cut the side of his leather cuirass, but didn't connect. He rounded again, bringing the blade down to chop her in half.

Sabine let out a yelp and dove to the side, holding the sword up to deflect the blow. His longer blade clanged loudly when it hit hers, knocking it out of her hand, though he missed her arm. Sabine released the sword before it could be wrenched away, and brought the mace up into his face with both hands. He let out a grunt and staggered, but didn't drop his sword, so she brought the mace up and then down into the back of his skull, knocking him into the deck. She heaved a few heavy breaths, the mace clattering to the deck as she sat down on the steps nearby. Once she'd had a moment to catch her breath, she dragged herself back to the Nord and rolled him for more information. She almost hit him again when she found another key.

"This must be the one to the other door." She shook the blood from her mace again, then made her way back inside.

Down in Ormil's room, which had apparently once been the captain's quarters, she found Selene standing with the Altmer that owned the Float. Sabine raised her mace and crept a little closer, then knocked the Imperial woman over the head, sending her staggering into the wardrobe against the wall. When she tried to get up, Sabine hit her again, then looked over at Ormil.

"Are there any more?"Her chest heaved, and she looked the proprietor over for signs of injury.

He shook his head. "No, she's the last one. I'm afraid this is all my doing, really." When Sabine just stared at him, he looked a little sheepish. "Business had been slow lately, so I concocted a story about a 'Golden Galleon' that the previous owner of the ship had hidden within it. It was supposed to be a solid gold statue of a ship. I figured adventurers and the curious would want to come looking for it, and what would it hurt if they bought a drink or two while they were here?" He looked down at Selene's body. "I never thought anything like this would happen."

"You're an idiot," Sabine said flatly as she rolled Selene's body. A handful of loose gold, nothing more. She straightened up with a sigh. "You could've been _killed_ , you know that? What do you think would have happened when you told her the story was a fake?"

"Y-yes, you're right. It was foolish of me." He nodded. "I'm grateful that you were here to put a stop to it all, though I _am_ sorry about all of this. Where is Graman? Did they hurt him?"

"You mean the Orc?" Sabine shook her head. "He's below deck, locked in the storage room. Here's the key." She handed it to him with a shrug. "Now that there aren't any more 'Brigands', it should be safe to let him out."

Ormil sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. Why don't you go and get some rest, and Graman and I will bring the ship back to port. You look exhausted."

Sabine nodded and left the cabin, pausing in the tavern deck to rinse the blood from her mace, then continued below deck to her room. She fell onto the bed and was almost immediately asleep. This time, she was too exhausted to dream.

* * *

 **Whew! Another long chapter, at just over 2800 words. I'm going to aim for about 2k words per chapter from here-on out, to give it a little consistency. Sabine's getting a little better now, I feel like, and it's clear she's 'gained a level', so to speak. The _real_ test of her abilities will be in chapter 6, where we take off to loot through our first Ayleid Ruin! That'll give us a better idea of where her strengths actually lie, and see better how she prefers to do things. **

**Also, I'm sure someone's noticed that Hieronymus Lex was suspiciously absent from this chapter. He's in Anvil, working as a castle guard, and Quintilius has his old job. For those of you who've played the game, I hope you enjoyed the little nod to other quest lines. ;)**

 **Thanks for reading this far! And if you liked it, Follow, Comment, or Fav for more!**


	5. Chapter 5: Vilverin

Morning, 31 Last Seed, 3E433

"She had a bounty?" Sabine raised her eyebrows.

Ormil nodded. "Dead or alive, apparently. Here you are." He held out a sack of coin cheerfully. "It's rightfully yours after you saved us. I'll be telling the truth about the story from now on, and they'll all know how you saved us." He stopped suddenly. "Um, I never got your name, actually. What can we call you?"

She hesitated, then sighed. Oh to hell with it. "Sabine," she said finally. "I'm Sabine Russoric."

He beamed at her. "Thank you again, Sabine. Please, return any time. You'll always be welcome here."

She made her goodbyes and finally left the Bloated Float, counting the coins in her purse. ' _A hundred gold? That should get me a decent bow, at least. Pity the others didn't have bounties on them.'_

She looked up to see a courier walking toward her, and stowed the money away.

"Are you Miss Russoric?" he asked. When she nodded, he held out a missive with an Imperial stamp on it. "Message from Captain Hayn, for you."

"Thank you." She traded the message for a septim and pried open the seal. She held her breath as she read. Had they found it?

 _Miss Russoric,_

 _Regarding your inquiry about the thief that took your necklace._

 _The man in question tried to fence the necklace at Divine Elegance, in the Market District, but Palonirya, the proprietor, thought him shifty and called the guards. The thief ran before he could be apprehended, but was tracked to Vilverin, the nearby Ayleid ruin. He has since been identified as Glaf the Bloody-Knife, and has wanted posters and a bounty. Please come and see me at the Prison Offices as soon as possible, and we shall discuss what to do next._

 _Captain Itius Hayn_

 _Imperial City Watch_

She exhaled slowly. Vilverin… that was the collection of white pillars she had seen when she exited the sewers, wasn't it? She narrowed her eyes. She ought to just clear out the ruin and paint the walls with that thief's blood. She looked down at the paper again. Though the missive was dated for the previous day. It was possible that something had changed, or he had been caught. Though she hated to lose any more time, she folded up the missive and made her way to the prison offices.

Captain Hayn met her at the door. "I was wondering when the courier would get in touch with you. I take it you received my missive?"

She nodded as they made their way inside. "There was a… slight hiccup during my stay at The Bloated Float, but it's over with now. Has anything changed since the missive was sent?"

He stood up a little straighter and led her toward the cells below. "Yes. We've caught him, actually. Someone saw him skulking around Weye and alerted a patrolman, who made the arrest."

They stopped outside the cell farthest from the stairs, where a great hulking Redguard sat on a stool in the corner. He turned his flattened, pock-marked face toward them and sneered at Sabine, who glared back. The Captain continued speaking as though he didn't notice.

"We've gone through all of his belongings, and didn't find your necklace, though we _did_ find a substantial sum of gold and a note from someone named 'Jalbert'. We have reason to believe he may yet be residing in Vilverin."

Sabine nodded, her face livid. "Then that's my next stop. Thank you, Captain."

"Hold on. You can't seriously be considering going there on your _own?"_ Hayn turned to face her, but she was already ascending the steps of the prison and disappearing from view.

* * *

Afternoon, 31 Last Seed, 3E433

Sabine once more sat on the docks outside the Imperial City sewer exit, this time stringing a sturdy steel bow and sizing up the ruins across from her. She could only see two figures patrolling its outside, and what looked to be a makeshift camp set up in the shadow of the ruin's well. She glanced down at the bow again, then readjusted the quiver of arrows on her back. It had cost her most of the coin she'd made, but the added distance she'd have between herself and her targets was well worth the expense. She didn't want to risk a repeat of what had happened in the mausoleum.

A quick glance up at the sky, and she could tell that sunset wasn't far off. Perhaps it would be best to wait until night could hide her approach? She squinted back across the water at the two figures there, and saw one of them climb into his tent. She blinked for a moment.

' _Well… all right, then.'_ She notched a dripping arrow and took aim at the remaining sentry, who looked to be fiddling with his weapon. A little flattery at The Main Ingredient had given her access to a full set of alchemical equipment, even if she did have to avoid the shop for the rest of her life now. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of the proprietor — Georic, she thought his name was — and rolled the arrow lightly in her fingers to keep the milk thistle and concentrated harrada extract from dripping off the end before she'd prepared her shot.

The bandit sentry wandered a little farther away from his friend, bringing him toward the edge of the water. Sabine breathed in slowly and held it, then exhaled as she loosed the arrow. It soared across the shallow water and buried itself in the bandit's stomach, causing him to make a gagging sound, then go ramrod straight and stiffen up. He blinked wide eyes, his mouth frozen open in shock and pain, and he fell face-first down the bank. Blood began seeping out into the water from where he lay, and Sabine left him there to drown, making her way to the edge of the dock, then sinking into the water. She held her bow and her bag above her head as she walked, hoping to Kynareth she didn't attract any slaughterfish before she reached the other side.

She would have preferred not to swim, but the only alternative was to completely cross City Isle and walk all the way back around the Red Ring Road, and she just didn't have that sort of time. The bandit floating nearby gave a few slight twitches as the paralysis poison began wearing off, but it didn't last long. His friend continued snoring from his bedroll, oblivious to his dying struggles, as Sabine paused at the water's edge to shake herself off a little, scattering water droplets all along the sandy bank. She crouched back down and crept up on the snoring vagabond, mace in hand. As soon as she was close enough, she lifted the mace with both hands and slammed it into his head, turning her face away and flinching her eyes closed to keep the blood spray out of her eyes. The cracking of bone made her wrinkle her nose again, but she swallowed her nausea and looked around. There were no signs of any other bandits outside, and she allowed herself to relax a little.

Rolling the two corpses turned up nothing of interest, save a few loose septims and a skein of stale water. She shook her head in irritation and rinsed her mace off at the edge of the lake, then returned it to her side.

' _Better to use the bow in here,'_ she thought idly. ' _No way I want to get caught in those narrow corridors trying to swing a mace.'_ The low grating of stone on stone marked her entry to the ruin, but she exhaled quietly to see no one had heard her approach.

The inside of the ruin was dark as night, save for a few pockets of glowing stones that looked to be broken Welkynd stones or something not far removed from it. Though they could no longer power the city, they still gave off an eerie, bluish glow that reminded Sabine of starlight. Before she could take the time to admire the pretty scattering of glowing stones, movement on the stairs ahead caught her eye, and she dropped back into the shadows. It was a third bandit, this one in leather armor with a rusty looking axe strapped to his back. She pulled an arrow with a wider, flatter head out of her quiver, dripping with toxin like the first, and nocked it. A breath of silence passed while she took aim, then the arrow flew across the distance between them, slicing deeply into the man's fat neck. He gurgled and reached up to grasp the arrowhead, then the paralysis took effect, and he fell to the stone. Sabine hurried down and took the dagger off of his belt, stabbing him in the chest to ensure his silence. She tugged her arrow free and dropped it back into the quiver to re-coat it, then checked the body.

A few loose septims, but still no sign of the Amulet. She wrenched the dagger sheathe away from the man's belt and attached it to her own, then looked around again. She sighed.

' _Onward and downward, it seems.'_ She shook her quiver slightly to ensure the arrowheads were well coated, then pulled one out and readied her bow again.

There was another bandit at the bottom of the second set of stairs, this time in thin, flimsy armor that looked to be barely holding together. It was child's play to pick her off like the others and search her. She found another small cluster of bandits in a large room just beyond the stairs, but managed to pick them off fairly simply. She looked around a little, then peered over the balcony to see deeper into the ruin. Another well-placed arrow downed the bandit on the lower level, and she turned back to look at the larger portion of the bandits' camp.

A sputtering fire, more smoke and embers than actual flames, marked the center of the cluttered camp. There was a rickety old table off to one side, and a cluster of fallen stones had been turned into a makeshift table to hold several battered pieces of armor and a small chest. She pulled out her lockpick and fiddled the chest open, but deflated when she saw its contents. A stained conjuring scroll and a battered silver ring were all she found, but she stowed the items in her pack anyway. She made her way around the room, weaving in and out of broken pillars and debris as she collected her arrows and returned them to their sheath. Just as she was turning to head deeper into the ruin, a second staircase caught her eye, this one heading up like the first. She frowned and walked over to the grate that formed the archway, peering up the stairs. She couldn't hear anything down the passage, but she dropped back into a crouch all the same and slowly made her way up the stairs.

At the top was a fairly small square room, empty save for another half-rotted table, and a bed that looked like it held enough lice to shave half the Imperial Guard. She gave the fur-draped bed a wide berth and walked over to the table, where she found more of those glowing blue stones. Each one was a bit taller than her hand, and about as wide as two fists put together at the base, though it tapered off into a rounded point at the top. The wider base of each stone had been fitted with a sort of metal basket, as though they were meant to fit into a larger fixture. When she picked one of them up, testing its weight, the stone seemed to glow a little brighter, and she could feel it thrumming with magicka. Here pale eyes were wide with awe as she stared at the stone, and without realizing what she was doing, she had stowed all three of the stones into her pack. They didn't weigh much, and she rationalized her compulsive thievery with the knowledge that the Arcane University would likely want to buy them for a good price. Her fingers were still tingling from contact with the stone as she looked over the table again. She pocketed the small stack of coins on one corner of the wooden surface, then turned her attention to a poorly written note laying in front of the chair. Her eyes narrowed as she read, then crumpled the note.

' _A mage hiding in_ these _ruins?'_ She scoffed. ' _A necromancer more like. He must be this 'Jalbert' the Captain mentioned.'_ She tossed the wad of paper aside and rifled through the other papers on the table, then sighed and turned away with a faint groan. ' _I_ hate _necromancers…'_

Internalized grumbling marked her descent back toward the camp, and she pulled out her bow and another arrow, then paused at the steps leading to the lower level of the camp, frowning at her arrow. If the necromancer was raising skeletons, her bow would be worthless against them. She looked at her mace with a grimace. And she _really_ wanted to avoid zombies. She shivered slightly as she headed farther into the ruin. Zombies were the worst.

* * *

 **A/N: Holy crap! Almost a hundred views! Thank you guys so much, yo!**

 **Anyway, this chapter ended up being almost 5,000 words long, so I had to split it in half. Talk about scrolling for _daaays_. So as soon as I get the second half of this chapter edited, I'll post it (sometime within the next few days, I'm thinking.) Then we'll be getting into the _good_ shit.**

 **Thanks so much for reading this! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far!**


	6. Chapter 6: Retrieving the Amulet

Sabine stood deep in the ruin, gasping for air as she stared down at the rotting, mangled corpse at her feet. The mace in her hands dripped with fetid blood and decay, and she shuddered violently in disgust and adrenaline.

 _Zombies._ Of _course_ there were zombies. She cursed her luck and all the Aedra for good measure. ' _When I get my hands on that bloody necromancer…'_

A sudden rattling sound caught her attention and she jumped, swinging the mace back without thinking. There was a loud cracking of bone, and she spun around to see a full skeleton crumpling to the ground. The thudding of a rusted axe hitting stone made her jump again, and she looked down at the weapon with wide eyes.

She sighed. ' _Skeletons. Necromancer staple number two. Right.'_ It must've been drawn to her fight with the zombie. How it heard the fight, she didn't want to give herself a headache trying to work out. She looked around the room, trying to catch her breath. Save for the dead Khajiit she'd found when she first arrived, there was nothing else there. She turned to the side and kicked the sarcophagus in frustration.

A low, grating sound filled the silence, and she ducked back just in time to see one of the walls slide open.

' _Would you look at that.'_ She swung her mace to the side, slinging off much of the gross hanging on the spines, and made her way quietly to the hole there.

She stopped several feet back when the stench of decay reached her. Slowly, carefully, she eased around the corner. A half-rotted skeleton stood with its back to her, its rusted axe glinting menacingly in the low light. She took a breath to steady herself, then pulled her mace back. She slammed it hard into the arm connected to the axe, shattering the bone. When the unholy thing turned to face her, she brought the mace up into its face, knocking it to the ground. She brought the mace down into the skull again, and the horror was finally still.

Before she could catch her breath, there was a sharp pain in her arm, and she cried out, clutching at the broken arrow stuck in her bicep. She was forced to shift the mace over to her other hand, and she looked up to see a second skeleton aiming a shoddy bow at her. She dodged behind a pillar as another arrow whizzed by. She took a deep breath and pulled the arrowhead out of her arm with a whimper, casting it aside. She looked around her for a shield, a bit of wood, anything that would catch arrows for her, and found nothing.

' _How do you take out a skeletal archer?'_ Her eyes fell on a pile of fallen debris nearby. ' _Well, that might work.'_ She picked up a stone with her uninjured arm and tested its weight, then glanced back at the skeleton again. She jerked her head back in time to watch another arrow fly past her, almost close enough to skin her nose. She pulled her arm back and lobbed the rock.

It hit lower than she'd hoped, but it still hit the skeleton's leg hard enough to crack the bone. It staggered a little, lowering its bow, and she saw her opening.

Before she had time to think of what a terrible idea it was, she grabbed her mace in both hands and charged the bony archer, smashing its forearms with the spines on her mace and forcing it to drop its bow. It opened its jaw at her, the bone grating in a horribly unnatural way that set her teeth on edge, and she cringed away, swinging the mace into its open maw. The head came away from the spinal column with a crack, the body dropping to the ground. She panted, trying to catch her breath, then heard a faint creaking sound. She looked down to see the head still clamped down onto the end of her mace, its empty eyes staring up at her, and she let out a squeak, dropping the weapon in her surprise. It hit the stone with a loud crunch, shattering the skull between the mace and the stones.

Sabine shuddered violently again, then looked around for any more undead. When nothing else moved within the visible ruins, she allowed herself to relax a little, and pulled a small phial out of her pack. She flinched when the burning liquid was poured over her wound, but sighed in relief as the hole began to close. She took a sip of the potion for good measure, wrinkling her nose at its bitter taste, then stoppered the phial and returned it to her pack. She still hadn't found the necromancer, and she was running out of ruin to search. Maybe there was another switch, like she'd found earlier in the ruin?

She made her way around the room again, this time looking for more of those strange stone plates. She found none, but she did find an archway she'd missed behind a stack of rubble. She deflated visibly when she saw the pillar standing in the center of the room, six glowing blue buttons facing her. An Ayleid puzzle. Of _course_. Carefully, she stepped closer to the center of the room, noting the partitions that divided the room into six sections. She saw no other doors, and huffed. One of the buttons must open the way out, but…

She eyed them warily. Knowing the Ayleids, the other five would likely be dead ends or traps. ' _Or worse.'_

She narrowed her eyes at the buttons again. If that necromancer had come through, which was almost guaranteed, some of the buttons would most likely release more undead. She groaned faintly. What she wouldn't give for a Detect Life spell. Her mind turned back to her mask, still in its cabinet at home, and her expression turned bitter. Finally, she sighed quietly and pushed the first button, her mace at the ready. Only one way to find out which switch was which.

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Sabine stood in the center of the room, bloody and once more out of breath, the stone floor around her scattered with broken bones and rusty discarded weapons.

 _'Only one left,'_ she thought tiredly, looking at the last button on the panel. She reached out with dirty, bloodstained fingers and pressed it, holding her breath as the stone slid away. She didn't look until the grinding came to a halt, then peered around the corner.

The resulting tunnel was dark, but she saw no other signs of movement, and released the breath she'd been holding. She crept along the poorly lit passage, then fell back when as glowing light came into view. A campfire? She traded the mace for her bow, and slowly notched an arrow.

Across the fire, almost hidden in the glow of the flames, stood a dark-skinned man in black robes. She narrowed her eyes as he studied a skeleton laid out on a stone slab before him. She pulled the arrow back and took aim as he reached up and scratched his chin. ' _Bastard.'_

The arrow skimmed the top of the fire as it few, catching the fletching alight. The resulting makeshift torch buried deep into his back, causing him to cry out. His back arched as he turned to the side, and one arm reached up and back, as if to dislodge the arrow. Before he could turn around, she loosed another arrow, this one catching him in the neck. With a gurgle and wide eyes, he fell to the floor. Sabine strode over to him and wrenched the arrow back out of his neck, tearing the flesh as she did so. He stared up at her with wide, bulging eyes, and she sneered as she kicked him in the temple, knocking him out.

"I hope you bleed out slowly," she snarled, then kicked him over onto his stomach and jerked the other arrow free. The shaft had broken, but the arrowhead was still serviceable. She wedged it off of the shaft and dropped it into a pouch at her waist, then took a look around the room.

There wasn't much of interest around his camp, but careful searching turned up a letter, a handful of septims, and a few potions. She read over the letter, one eyebrow raised as she mumbled over its contents to herself.

"Aluc, my friend… Captain Cardus… Daggerfall…" She looked down at the body with a scoff. "Rather unnecessarily informative, isn't this? You even signed your _name_. Were you _trying_ to get him arrested? Or are you really as foolish as you look?" She rolled the letter up and stowed it away. "Either way, I'm sure the Imperial Watch would love to have it. Thank you."

She looked around again, then sighed. "Now where did you hide it?" She kicked the body again on her way around the camp, then found a small lockbox hidden under a table. A little fiddling got it open, and she grinned to see the gaudy red jewel glinting up at her in the low light. For the first time in nearly a week, she felt herself breathe a little easier. "Never thought I'd be glad to see _you_ again." She lifted the Amulet out of the box and looked it over, then stuffed it in her pocket. She rose to her feet and looked down at the body one last time.

"Well, this has been fun, but I _really_ need to go." Sabine gave the necromancer one last kick in farewell, then made her way toward the door at the other end. If she'd been mapping the ruins right, it should lead her back to the entrance.

The burst of fresh air that hit her when she opened the doors to Cyrodiil felt like heaven after so long underground. Sweat had mixed with the dirt, dust, and filth she'd picked up in the ruins, and dried blood caked along her arm, neck, and under her nails. She yawned tiredly and pulled the map she'd purchased out of her nearly full pack, squinting down at the paper in the cool light of the moons. Weye wasn't far off. Maybe she could get a room there for the night?

She frowned, then looked across the water again toward City Isle. The Market District was closer, and more likely to come with a bath. She chewed her lip for a moment, then gagged at the taste and spit out blood and dirt. She _really_ needed a bath. The Imperial City it was, then.

* * *

Velus at The Merchant's Inn had taken one look at Sabine and immediately pointed her toward the baths, refusing to even speak of renting her a room until she was decently clean. She lay on the soft, well-kept bed an hour later, barely able to keep her eyes open in her exhaustion. She tucked the Amulet down the front of her spare shirt, too paranoid of losing it again to leave it in her pack, and sprawled face-down onto the mattress, ready for a decent night's sleep. In the morning, she'd make her way to Chorrol and take the Amulet to Jauffre, then be free to go her own way.

It would all be over tomorrow.

* * *

 **A/N: Holy cow! Over 110 views and a new favorite! Thanks so much you guys! Anyway, we've now finished our preliminary detour, so next chapter we'll be off to Weynon Priory, and one step closer to meeting Martin! MY ALL TIME FAVORITE SEPTIM! :D I wonder what Sabine will think of him... Haha.**

 **Thanks again for all the love, y'all. I'll get the new chapter up as soon as I can!**


	7. Chapter 7: Weynon Priory

" _The Amulet of Kings. It is the Empire's sacred emblem of rulership. It must pass to the last of the Dragon's Blood. Keep it safe from the pawns of the Destroyer." An aging, but kind face forced a world-weary smile. "For me, it ends here. You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. You are our only hope to stem the blood tide." The panel in the wall behind the old man slid open, as if in slow motion._

" _No. No I can't do this. Why did you pick_ me _to do this?" Sabine shook her head wildly, but the dream Emperor couldn't hear her protestations._

" _Go. Take with you my blessings, and the hope of the Empire." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, closing her fingers around the Amulet, as the assassin appeared in the doorway behind him._

"No! _Stop!" Sabine reached for her mace, but it wasn't at her side. She looked down, and she was once more clad in the rags of the Imperial Prison._

 _She looked up to see the assassin unsheathe his dagger, then catch the Emperor by the throat. She screamed when the masked man buried his blade in the emperor's chest, then cast him aside. Fighting could be heard coming from the next room. Sabine stumbled backwards, the Emperor's hand going limp and sliding off of her still clenched fist. The assassin looked up at her, and began advancing, his blade still dripping with the Emperor's blood._

 _Sabine grasped around for a blade,_ anything _she could use as a weapon, and finally tripped on a sword. She grabbed it and stumbled backwards again, swinging wildly with the blade in her fear._

" _No! Get away! I don't want to do this!" She cried, cutting a swath of fabric away from the assassin's bound armor._

 _He staggered, but didn't fall, and continued to advance. She could feel him leering at her through the mask, and her heart pounded in such a way it was a wonder it didn't beat a hole through her chest._

"NO!" _She stabbed again with the sword, this time catching him in the side._

 _The assassin lurched, then lunged forward again, letting the sword impale him as he drove his own blade into Sabine's stomach. She gasped for air. The sword clattered to the ground. Searing, blinding pain overwhelmed her. Sweat covered her brow. The assassin crumpled to the floor beside her. The stone was cold against her feverish skin. She screamed again, a terrified, dying wail that echoed across the stones._

 _She could see the Redguard, Baurus, she thought his name was, hovering over her. Her vision began blackening at the corners. His mouth moved, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. Slowly, his face began to morph and change. It lightened in color, and his short hair grew long and grey._

 _The Emperor leaned over her as her vision faded to black. "Remember me, and remember my words. This burden is now yours alone. You hold our future in your hands."_

* * *

Sabine sat up in bed with a start, sucking in air as though she'd been submerged in water. The Emperor's last words once more echoed throughout her head.

" _Find my son, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion."_

Sabine raked a hand through her sweat-dampened hair, her grey eyes wide as she stared about the room. She pushed her hair away from her face, then rose shakily to her feet. The curtains were thick and well-lined, but pulling them back from the window did little to lighten the room. Thin, weak light struggled over the horizon in the distance, barely noticeable at all over the high walls of the city. She groaned and shook her head vigorously, trying to banish the nightmare. She grumbled under her breath as she turned away from the window, letting the heavy fabric fall back in place and darken the room once more.

"All right, _all right_. _I get it._ Take the stupid necklace. Go to the stupid monk. Get the stupid son. _I've got it._ " She shuddered when the assassin flashed in her mind's eye again. "Will you stop haunting me already, old man?" She looked up at the ceiling, though she expected no answer.

She grumbled under her breath some more as she pulled her boots out from under the rented bed, irritably flicking her hair out of her face again. She was tempted to shear it off short, for all the trouble it was causing her. She hadn't had the chance to cut it since before her imprisonment, and that was several months ago. Maybe after this business with Jauffre was over, she could get it cut in Chorrol. A heavy weight settled itself in the front of her shirt, where she'd tucked it into her pants, and she looked down.

" _Oh,"_ she murmured, tugging the Amulet of Kings back out of her shirt.

Even for having spent the whole night against her skin, it was strangely hot to the touch, as though it contained some sort of mage fire. She tilted it slightly, and even in the darkness of her room, it seemed to glow from within, reminding her of the fires in the Temple of the One. After the nightmare she'd had, it was oddly comforting, and she wrapped her fingers around the red jewel, holding it to her chest.

She took a deep breath, then let it out in a sigh. She would get no more sleep this day. Better to simply start the long, mostly uphill trek to Chorrol. She attached the Amulet's chain to a length of leather cord, and once more hid the bright jewel down inside her shirt. At least now it was out of sight of cutpurses and highwaymen, of which she was sure to run into at least one or the other. With her meager bag of belongings once again packed, she set out on her way.

* * *

Weynon Priory rose up through a gap in the trees not far from Chorrol's city gate, a spot of brown and grey amid the deep greens of The Great Forest. Sabine paused beside the great boulder that marked the edge of the Priory's lot and stared up at the chapel with a deepening frown. She shook her head at the stained glass window on the chapel's front, then turned and entered the priory house.

One of the brown-clad monks looked up as she entered. "Yes, can I help you?"

"Are you Brother Jauffre?"

He shook his head. "I am Prior Mabel. Brother Jauffre is upstairs and to the right." He looked her over. "Are you quite well? You seem exhausted."

Her shoulders slumped, and she nodded. "It's… been a long journey."

The Prior eyed her with an understanding expression, then held his hand out toward the stairs. "Come. I will take you to Jauffre, and we shall see about finding you a bed. You look as though you could fall over at any moment."

"Yes." Sabine found herself nodding blankly along as the man led her up the stairs. When he gestured to a desk at the end of the room, she nodded again. "Thank you."

He smiled as he descended the steps again, and she turned her attention to the desk at the end of the room. The wooden surface was strewn with papers, and a small stack of books in one corner, but it was the man seated behind the desk that drew her gaze. He was old, with thinning grey hair in a ponytail behind his head, and though he was dressed in the same brown robes as the others at the Priory, there was something about him that didn't fit with the image he had created for himself.

She eyed the book he was reading as she approached. ' _Mixed Unit Tactics'._ She squinted slightly. ' _Odd choice for a monk. Aren't they supposed to be pacifists?'_ She schooled her expression more neutral as she approached, then forced herself to smile when he looked up. "I'm looking for Brother Jauffre. Prior Mabel said you were him?"

"Yes, I'm Brother Jauffre. What do you want?" He snapped his book closed, and she decided at once she did not like his clipped tone. He looked her over as though he were studying her.

"Baurus sent me here," She began explaining, and produced the Amulet of Kings from inside her shirt. "I'm supposed to ask you about the heir. He told me where to find you."

Jauffre sat up straight in his chair, instantly suspicious. "Who are you?"

"My name is Sabine. I'm one of the people who was there when the Emperor was murdered. He asked me to take the Amulet to you. He said you could find his last son."

"The _Emperor_ told you to say that?" He narrowed his eyes at her, and she sighed.

She took a deep breath, and quoted the speech she heard almost every night in her dreams. At 'close shut the jaws of Oblivion', Jauffre stilled in his chair, staring up at her in surprise. When she had finished, she waited and watched as he processed the Emperor's last words. Finally, he sighed.

"Oh, very well. As unlikely as your story is, I believe you. Only the strange fate of Uriel Septim could have sent _you_ to me bearing the Amulet." He paused to flick his eyes over her once more, as though she were lacking in some way from what he had wanted. "You were what, a criminal in the prison? Hardly whom I would have chosen for such a task."

Sabine gave a small jerk. "I'm an _Infiltrator_ , thank you. And I didn't exactly choose this for myself, either, I'll have you know. Were it up to me I'd have shoved the Amulet onto Baurus and gone my own way, but the fool wouldn't hear of it. Kept insisting some trite about 'destiny' and 'fate having a hand' or some such nonsense." She waved her hand in dismissal. "Look, do you know where to find the man or not?"

"Yes, I know of the boy. While I was still a Captain, Uriel called me to his chambers late one night. There was a baby boy asleep in a basket. He told me to take the child somewhere safe, and explained no more, but I knew the boy was his son. He asked about the child's progress from time to time, and seemed pleased with what I told him."

Jauffre sighed. "His name is Martin. He serves Akatosh at the chapel in Kvatch. Fetch him, and we'll decide what to do next." His tone said that the matter was closed, and Sabine bristled.

" _Fetch_ him?"

"Is there a problem with that?" He looked over the top of his once-more open book, as though she were a disobedient recruit.

"There's _plenty_ wrong with that," she snapped. "First of all, I'm not one of your Blades. I work for no one, certainly not a glorified cleric." He puffed up at that, but she didn't give him a chance to continue. " _Secondly_ , my job is complete. I was to bring you the Amulet, and tell you what the Emperor said. I have done so. If you want this _Martin_ retrieved so badly, do it yourself. You _are_ meant to be the Grandmaster of an order of warriors, are you not?" She scoffed. "I am no warrior, and I'm _certainly_ no Blade. My fighting is best done indirectly, through misdirection and subterfuge. I do not even carry _armor_. What would you expect _me_ to do against an army of assassins?"

She shook her head. "No. I've done my part. You do yours. I'm going home."

She turned on her heel and left the room. Prior Mabel turned to hear footsteps on the stairs and looked surprised to see her descend them again.

"You are leaving already?" He asked. "Would you not rather wait until you are rested?"

She gave a tired half-smile in return. "I'm sorry, Prior Mabel, but it turns out I cannot stay. Thank you for your kindness."

Before he could respond, she pulled open the doors and stomped out into the wilderness again.

As she followed the Orange Road north toward Bruma, Sabine continued to fume. She began grumbling to the empty countryside. ' _Take the Amulet to Jauffre, you said'._ She huffed. ' _He knows where to find your son, you said. You didn't tell me he'd be such a pretentious bastard.'_ A fetch quest. A _fetch quest_. As though his future Emperor were a parcel and she were a courier. She fumed all the way to the intersection at the Silver Road, glancing up at the signpost as she did so.

She stopped. Three long, deep gashes marred the sign pointing toward Kvatch, and she swallowed.

" _His name is Martin. He serves Akatosh at the chapel in Kvatch."_

" _Find my son, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion."_

Sabine gave a loud groan, her booted feet stomping as she turned off the main road and nearly ran the short, though mostly uphill, distance to her home. She went inside long enough to change into some sturdy travel gear and grab a fresh pack of supplies, then bolted for the door again. She paused beside the wardrobe, her fingers on the handle. The door cracked open, and a folded square of grey cloth could be seen on one of the shelves. Would she need it?

After a moment, she shook her head, shutting the wardrobe back. Instead, she grabbed a few potion bottles off of a nearby table and dumped a fresh phial of poison into the bottom of her quiver, which she refilled with stronger arrows. She traded the steel bow for her old Elven one, and ran back out into the snow. She had to hurry.

Martin may not have much time.

* * *

 **A/N: Holy crap! 130 views! THANK YOU!**

 **Whew! Sorry about the long wait. I really struggled with this chapter, for some reason. Jauffre just did _not_ want to cooperate. I suppose in a way, he still didn't. **

**But here we are! That's it for the preliminaries, now on to the Main Event! Martin will be here soon! And we're going to Hell! Er, I mean, _Oblivion_. Same difference. Anyway, I'm going to update the Character List to include Jauffre, and probably also Baurus. Should I go ahead and add Martin, or wait until he actually appears? Which do you guys think would be better?**

 **Anyway, I have the next three or four chapters planned out, so I'm going to start working on those as soon as I can. Hopefully I'll have a new one ready in a few days. I'm aiming to be able to update this weekly, if possible, so we can have some semblance of stability here.**

 **Thanks for reading this far! If you like the story, please feel free to leave a comment, or follow along for more. I look forward to hearing from you!**


	8. Chapter 8: The Rush to Kvatch

**A/N:** _ **I wrote the bulk of this scene to "I See Fire" (Celtic Woman cover) on loop. It's got that same haunting, regretful feel that I was going for, and the woman singing just seems to fit Sabine really well, I think. And when the rest of the group joins in for the second chorus…. mmm. The song is on YouTube if you're interested in having your feels torn apart (it won't let me paste the link here).**_

* * *

Evening, 2 Hearthfire, 3E433

She made it all the way to the other side of Skingrad before she noticed anything wrong. The roads of the West Weald were always lush and overflowing, but well-traveled and better patrolled. Then, all signs of Imperial patrols just… _stopped_. She could no longer make out fresh hoofprints in the road, and the resulting emptiness was a little unnerving. She paused in her steps to take a breath, closing her eyes and listening to the world around her. Trees rustled in a faint wind that whirled around her clothes, and the warm winds off the coast had a harsher edge. A sharp, bitterness filled her lungs, like a hard-won hunter's catch fallen into a campfire. The smell of burning _something_ filtered through the trees, acrid and earthy, almost like charcoal and burning fat, and her stomach turned.

' _Gods above… that…'_ She couldn't bring herself to finish the thought, but her mind conjured up pictures from jobs long passed. Blackened, charred forms that were vaguely humanoid, curled up in on themselves as though to hide from the heat that had scorched them. She ran.

Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing the hard thudding of her booted feet against the road, and she willed herself to go faster. For a long way, she could see nothing beyond the heavy greens of the forest around her, but finally she reached a gap in the vegetation and skidded to a halt, dirt and rocks skittering away from her and down the embankment.

When she looked up toward the hill where Kvatch sat, her legs almost couldn't support her. Instead of the rich, verdant hillside of pine and oak she was so used to, a great black husk sat before her. Charred pillars were all that remained of the ancient trees that had once hidden Kvatch's walls. The wind picked up again, swirling her hair about her face as it scattered the plumes of ash and smoke rising from inside the city, and her eyes welled with tears. Her stomach lurched again when she realized she couldn't see the top of the chapel. It had always been visible over the walls, but there was no sign of it now. Her voice sounded small and broken, even to her own ears.

" _Martin."_

The harsh smell of burning flesh reached her again, and she ran for the road again. She _had_ to reach it. He _couldn't_ be dead. He just couldn't. She'd never forgive herself if he was lost. Gods, why had she taken so long? She should have rented a horse or something, expense be damned. As she drew nearer to Kvatch, a heavy blanket of dark grey smoke seemed to settle over the area, held in by the trees that sheltered the road. She looked up and was forced to jerk to the side as an Altmer nearly ran into her at full speed.

He stopped and stared at her for a moment, as though he couldn't quite comprehend her presence, then grabbed both of her shoulders and shook her. "Come on! _Run!_ While there's still time! The Guard still holds the road, but it's only a matter of time before they're overwhelmed!" His eyes were wild, and his clothes reeked of smoke and blood. He took shallow, heaving breaths between shouts.

"Run? From _what?"_ Sabine tugged his hands off her shoulders, and glanced toward the road to Kvatch again.

"God's blood," he said, his voice suddenly quiet as he stared at her. "You don't know, do you?" When she looked back at him and shook her head, he took a ragged, slower breath, his voice cracking. "Daedra overran Kvatch last night. There were glowing portals outside the walls. Gates to _Oblivion itself!"_ He took another panicked gasp, but forced himself to go on. "There was a huge creature… something out of a _nightmare_ … came right over the walls… blasting fire… They swarmed around it… killing… _killing_... "

Dread settled in Sabine's stomach like a cold stone. "The whole city _can't_ be destroyed…"

He shook himself, looking back at her once more with his wild eyes. "Go and see for yourself!" His voice rose again, making him sound like a madman. "Kvatch is a smoking _ruin!_ We're all that's left, do you understand me?" He grabbed her shoulders and shook them again, nearly hyperventilating. " _Everyone else is dead!"_

She shook him in return, panic rising in her. "How did you get out? _Focus!"_

The Altmer shuddered violently. "It… it was Savlian Matius… some of the other guards, they… they helped us escape… cut their way out, through the city gates." He once more took on the far-away look of someone haunted, and it seemed as though he were no longer speaking to Sabine. "Savlian says they can hold the road. No… _no._ I don't believe him. _Nothing_ can stop them. If you'd seen it, you'd know. _I'm_ getting out of here, before it's too late! They'll be here any minute."

His eyes fixed on hers suddenly, burning with the intensity of all the madness in the Shivering Isles. "I'm telling you. _Run while you can!"_ He broke away from her then, scrambling to get his footing as he ran back the way she had come, periodically screaming or babbling incoherently about daedra and fire.

Sabine stared after him for a moment, then forced herself to breathe. She turned and ran farther up the hill, drawing nearer to the city. A collection of burlap tents marked the landing that began the path to Kvatch's front gate, and she stopped there to catch her breath. A handful of townsfolk flitted nervously between the tents, and she stood next to a Redguard man who only stared blankly into space.

She willed her voice to sound even when she caught his wrist to get his attention. "Please. Have you seen a man named Martin?"

He looked at her with ancient, empty eyes, his voice quiet as a whisper. "You mean the priest? I don't think he made it out. So many of us didn't…" He looked off into the distance again as she sucked in a sharp breath.

"No." She released his wrist just as suddenly as she'd taken it, taking a step back and away from him as she shook her head. " _No."_

She looked around. A woman with grey hair walked by, and she caught her attention next. " _Please_. I'm looking for Martin. Have you seen him?"

The older woman turned to her with sad, apologetic eyes. "He's not here, dear. I haven't seen him since the attack began." Seeing Sabine's panic begin to grow, she placed a gentle hand to the side of her face. "Talk to Savlian, at the top of the hill. I heard him mention that there might be more survivors up there." The woman's eyes watered as she gave Sabine a gentle smile. "He saved us, you know? Martin helped the guards pull people toward the gates. He may have gone back for the others." At Sabine's expression, her smile turned mournful. "I will pray for you, dear. Go."

Sabine found herself nodding numbly along, and turned away from the aging survivor. Her feet carried her up the hill even as she willed herself to run away, and soon the path leveled off once again. Wooden barricades lined the edge of the road, here and there manned by exhausted, scorched guards. The wide flat space where the stables once sat was glaringly devoid of trees and buildings. In their places, large jagged formations of rock rose up from the ground, flanked on either side by a pair of curved black spikes, whose tops appeared to be dripping with blood. The sky turned red, bathing everything in a hellish glow. Thunderclaps and flashes of yellow shook the sky, its sulfurous clouds interspersed with ribbons of molten rock.

Up ahead, blocking the gate into the city, she saw it. An unholy formation of obsidian rose from the ground in the shape of the daedric letter for 'door'. Its center was ablaze, ribbons of fire spreading out on either side as wave after wave of hot air blew out of the portal. Staring at the portal felt as though she were looking into the eye of Mehrunes Dagon himself, and she trembled under its gaze. Her feet moved forward, almost of their own accord, until a shout echoed behind her. A hand caught her elbow, jerking her back to her senses.

She looked over to see an Imperial man with greying hair, maybe fifteen years older than she, though the weariness on his face made him seem far older.

"What are you _doing?_ You shouldn't be up here." His voice was stern, but concerned as he looked her over. "You aren't one of the refugees, are you? What are you doing up here?"

Finally, she found her voice. "Martin," she said finally. "I… I'm looking for Martin."

He frowned for a moment, then nodded. "The priest of Akatosh. He's a good man." She couldn't stop the small flicker of relief that went through her when she heard him use the present tense. He looked back at her. "He's holed up in the chapel with the rest of the survivors, but we can't get to them. Not with that gate there."

"Are you Savlian?" She was grateful when the tremor in her voice was minimal.

He nodded again. "Savlian Matius, Captain of the Kvatch Guard. Look," he caught her arm again and tried to tug her back behind the barricade, "I've sent men into the gate already to try and close it, but you _can't_ be here. It's just not safe. There are still waves of daedra coming thr—"

" _Another wave!"_ One of the guards cut him off with a shout, and they both turned to see a handful of scamps come running out of the fire, shrieking and gibbering as they slashed out with their claws.

" _Damn!_ Stand back, civilian!" Savlian released her arm and drew his sword, charging in with the other guards.

Without thinking, Sabine drew her bow, nocking arrow after arrow as she fired at the scamps. When three of the six dead scamps lay with arrows sticking in them, Savlian turned back to her with wide eyes.

She met his gaze again, forcing herself to remain calm. "I _need_ to get to Martin. How long have your men been gone?"

"Well… most of the afternoon—" He cut off and grabbed her arm again when she started past him. "You can't be thinking of going _in_ there."

A quick assessment of the area around the Oblivion gate told her what she needed to know. She jerked her arm free and glared back at him. "I will do what I must to reach him. Stand out here and hold the perimeter. There is a gap to the left side of the gate that leads into the city. If I'm not back in two hours, go into the city without me and get the refugees out."

"But—"

" _Now,_ Captain. Those survivors have lost enough time. I will send your men back if I find them." She turned away from him and stomped up to the gate, holding onto her anger as hard as she could to keep from running away as the Altmer had done. The closer she drew to the gate, the drier and hotter the air became, until it nearly rivaled that of the Alik'r Desert. She drew in a breath that burned her throat and scorched her lungs as she stood in front of the portal. Yellow flames flickered on either side, licking out at her leathers without burning through them.

" _Find my son, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion."_

She took one last breath of Cyrodilic air, then stepped through the portal.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry this took so long, guys. Even for as short as this chapter is, I really struggled with it for some reason. I'm kinda proud of how it turned out, though, and we still hit 2k words.**

 **Next chapter will take place in Hell- er, _Oblivion_. Are you as excited as I am? :D**

 **Thanks for your continued interest in the story, and as always, don't forget to fav, comment, and follow for more! I love you guys!**


	9. Chapter 9: Oblivion

Stepping into the portal was like being baptized in a river of fire. It knocked the air out of Sabine's lungs. Her eyes watered, and she gasped for breath, her throat burning. When she finally landed on something solid, her legs buckled out from under her, and she fell to her knees, coughing and wheezing. The ground was hot, and she felt that without her leathers she would have been badly burned. When she finally opened her eyes, they began watering against the heat and smoke in the air, and she shivered.

"By the Nine…"

Everything she saw was bathed in a red glow, from the toxic clouds in the sky, to the barely-cooled lava of the ground, to the strange, whip-like plants that grew over the nearby rock formations. As she stared around at the horrific landscape, she shuddered violently, despite the heat.

' _Evergloam was_ never _like this. Apocrypha either. Where in Shadow's name am I?'_

Muffled shouting drew her attention, and she looked up. Not far away, a man was engaged in battle with a daedroth, its low growl sending a fresh shiver down her spine. The man wore the cuirass of the Kvatch city guard, and she realized that he must be one of the men Savlian sent in to close the gate. One of his compatriots lay nearby, nearly torn in two by the daedroth's jaws. Sabine forced herself to her feet and drew an arrow, holding her breath as she took aim.

The arrow struck true, burying deep in the daedroth's scaly hide. The beast turned toward her, opening its jaws wide. When it roared, she swore she could feel the vibrations all the way down into her bones, and she hurried to nock another arrow. The guard, seeing his opening, raised his sword high and drove the tip of his blade deep into the monster's neck. A spray of blood, steaming and hot even against the burning land, sizzled where it landed too close to the lava pool. Sabine relaxed her hold on her bow and came forward, catching the guard's attention as he tried to catch his breath.

"Thanks for that," he panted. "I'd have been dead for sure without your help." He slumped his shoulders, the tip of his dripping blade resting against the ground as he leaned forward. Defeat had etched itself deep into his features, and weariness weighed him down.

"Are you all that's left?" She glanced around them. The deceased guard lay just to her right, and through a gap in the gate ahead she thought she could see more guards, though they too appeared to have been slain.

The man before her nodded. "Ambushed," he said slowly. "Savlian sent us in to close the gate, but they knew we were coming. Had traps prepared. We didn't stand a chance. They… I think they dragged Menien off. I don't know where."

She put a hand to his shoulder. "Head back through the gate. The captain still holds the line." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "I'll head in and see about finding this 'Menien'."

The man stared at her for a moment, then nodded stiffly. "They, they still live? Yes. I'll… I'll go back. Thank you. Menien Goneld, that's who you're looking for. Older man, good with a sword, scar on his forearm. I think they headed toward a tower."

With one last push toward the gate, the soldier staggered on, his sword dragging the ground behind him. Briefly, she contemplated whether she should have asked him to stay and fight, but banished the thought when he nearly fell through the portal back into Cyrodiil. He'd be lucky if he were even conscious when he hit the ground. She'd only get him killed dragging him along. She looked down at the dead daedroth at her feet.

"I've the distinct feeling I'm going to regret this, you know," she said quietly.

The creature only continued to bleed out onto the ground. She sighed again, rolling the dead guard for anything of use.

"Right. Let's get this over with." She readied her bow once more and dropped down a little, hugging the cooler sections of terrain as she made her way toward the first tower in the distance. Was it too much to hope that the bulk of this plane's daedra would be otherwise dead or occupied?

* * *

The area she tred was indeed mostly clear of daedra. Save the daedroth near the gate, Sabine ran into little resistance outside the towers. The only remaining daedra seemed to mostly be comprised of clannfear and scamps, and she felt no qualms about shooting them down. The first of three towers loomed before her, black and spiky against the perpetually red backdrop. When she opened the door, she couldn't stop the sound of stone grating on stone. She cringed.

Inside, her stomach gave a lurch to see a perforated platform made up the bottom floor, its holes lining up with each of a group of nasty looking spikes that rose up out of the floor. There was a lever to her left, but she didn't dare touch it. To her right rose an oddly curved walkway that spiraled up the tower. Her eyes followed it up, and she could see a metal grating made up the top floor. Just above it, she could make out a cage with someone in it, and something in red and black armor standing nearby. She groaned internally.

' _Of_ course _there's a guard. I can't get_ that _lucky.'_

Once more she readied her bow, though her mind kept returning to the mace hanging at her side. She didn't really want to have to get that close. Halfway up the tower, the man in the cage saw her. Sabine shook her head fervently, and he gave a faint nod in return, then pretended he hadn't seen anything. As she drew closer to the top level, the caged man turned and began insulting his captor. She stared at him for a moment, then saw the daedra stomp over to his cage. Its voice was eerily metallic, as though it were echoing down a long metal tube.

" _Silence, mortal."_ It sneered at the man. Sabine cringed to hear its awful voice grating against her ears.

While the daedra was distracted, she lined up her shot. A breath to steady herself, and she let the arrow fly. It soared across the last incline and buried deep in the daedra's neck. Its strangled, grating cry was furious as it turned, but Sabine was already on her feet. She raised her mace and charged it, hitting the creature hard in its armored chest. Already off balance from its injury, the creature staggered back, falling over the precipice. There was a puncturing sound, followed by a sickening squelch when it landed on the spikes below.

Sabine lowered her arms and looked over at the man in the cage. "'Your face looks funny?' _Really?"_

The man shrugged. "Last minute decisions don't leave much time for preparation." He sobered, his hands closing on the bars closest to her. "Listen. You don't have much time. There are two more towers here, and you'll need the key on that dead one down there to get into them. You have to take the sigil stone from its cradle. It's the only way to close the gate."

"Sigil stone?" Sabine frowned at him. "What in Aedra's name is that?"

He shrugged again. "I'm not sure. Some sort of enchanted key, from the sound of it. I heard some of the others talking while they were dragging me away. I don't think they knew I was conscious." He leaned forward, pressing close to the bars. "You _have_ to get that key and close the gate."

"I am, I am. Let me just open this cage—"

"Don't worry about _me_. Just go!"

Sabine's expression fell flat, and she reached through the bars, slapping the man in the face. He flinched, going silent while she spoke. "Get your act together, will you? Menien Goneld, right?" When he nodded blankly, she huffed. "Get back then. Other side of the cage, please."

He stepped back, still surprised as she studied the cage. There was no door or lock that she could find on it. Sabine narrowed her eyes, then raised her mace again. She hefted its weight once or twice, then pulled back and slammed the mace into the bars. They groaned under the strain and bent to one side, making the cage swing dangerously wide. She pulled back and hit the bars again, harder this time. The groaning gave way to creaking, and she could tell the bars weren't made to hold up to such abuse. One more swing, and the two most battered bars snapped off, their broken, jagged ends hanging down from the top of the cage.

Menien Goneld stared at her from the back of the cage, unmoving.

Sabine huffed at him. "Well, _come on._ "

When he hesitated, she scoffed and reached into the cage, jerking him through the hole by his arm. He flinched when the broken bars scratched at his bare back, but said nothing. Once he was firmly on solid ground, she reached into her pack and pulled out the singed boots and bloodied cuirass she'd taken off the guard down by the gate.

"Here," she said flatly, shoving the items into his chest. "Put these on, or you'll never survive the heat on your way out." While he struggled into the slightly oversized armor, she continued talking in an irritated voice. "Go over this rise outside the door, then straight ahead. Don't make any turns, just walk straight for the bridge at the bottom of the hill, do you understand?" She began pulling him down toward the bottom floor as she spoke. "When you get there, you'll find a dead daedroth and a shredded guard. Go through the gate on your right and report back to Savlian Matius."

Menien hesitated, and Sabine gave him a shove toward the open door of the tower.

" _Go._ I don't have time to babysit you. Tell Savlian I know how to close the gate, and I'm on my way. Then get some water and sleep."

When he only continued to stare at her, she slapped him again.

" _GO."_

He jumped, coming back to himself, and ran for the gate without looking back. Sabine scoffed and shook her head, then began searching the impaled daedra. Key in hand, she made her way to the smallest tower on the landscape.

Just before she went inside, she glanced down toward the oblivion gate she'd entered through. She watched Menien stagger up to the flaming portal, hesitate, then leap through with a cry. She rolled her eyes and opened the door before her, disappearing inside.

' _Overdramatic fool.'_

* * *

Sabine exited the tower again some time later, thirsty from the heat and a little ragged, but with nothing to show for her search.

' _Nothing but scamps,'_ she thought, digging through her pack for her waterskin. The water was hot, but welcome on her tongue after so long in the arid nothing that made up the realm around her. She sighed and stowed it away again, turning her eyes on the third and largest tower in the set. ' _Must be that one.'_

She readied her bow again, and began creeping her way toward the tower's only visible door. A cluster of scamps blocked her way, but she made short work of them with her bow. While retrieving her arrows, she found the body of another of the larger daedra, and frowned. This one looked almost… _human_ , though his face was drawn up into a permanent scowl, and a red tattoo covered most of his features.

' _What sort of creature is_ this _?'_ She wondered, flipping the body over to get at the empty quiver on his back. She felt strange, thinking of it as a 'he', but it was the only way she _could_ describe it. The body was broad-shouldered and strong, and the face was decidedly masculine. Did daedra normally look like oddly corrupted mortals?

She shook her head to banish the thoughts and picked up his discarded bow from the ground next to him. It was black and red, like everything else in this godsforsaken plane, but the limbs were solid, and the string looked fairly sturdy. When she compared it to her own bow, she could immediately see the superior quality of it, and collected the weapon for herself. A quick glance around produced no arrows, but they had probably been used up in the fighting that had killed the creature.

' _Now for the sigil stone, whatever that is.'_ She nocked one of her arrows in her newly acquired bow and made her way inside.

She didn't have long to wait before the opportunity arrived to test out the daedric bow. Several clannfear dotted the lower levels of the tower, and Sabine was immediately impressed with the accuracy and power of the weapon. As she retrieved the arrow from her latest kill, she found herself thinking that she might never go back to Elven again. Now if only she could find arrows to match it…

She was pulled out of her musings by grumbling in another metallic, echoing voice. Up ahead, the narrow hallway opened out into a strangely cathedral-like room, where a humanoid figure in black robes was grumbling. She took aim without thinking, then jumped a little when the arrow struck the side of the creature's head so deeply it knocked him sideways. Her eyes widened as she looked down at the bow in her hand. What _was_ this thing made of? Even as good a marksman as she was, she'd never been so overwhelmingly deadly before.

She shook her head again and eased into the room. There were no other signs of movement, and the door into the next room was ajar. She struggled for a moment to retrieve her arrow from the thick skull of the fallen daedra, shuddering when it squelched free, but forced herself not to dwell on it. She was sure to be nearing the top of the tower by now, and had to keep her eyes open for the sigil stone. She wasn't sure what it would look like, but supposed it would be a case of 'knowing it when she saw it'.

Two more of the humanoid daedra were standing guard on the upper floor of the final room, which made Sabine gag to see. The stone circle around the edge of the floor seemed to be connected to a blackened slave framework of either iron of obsidian, but that wasn't the most revolting part. The entirety of the red dome that rose in the center of the floor appeared to be made of flesh, glistening and pulsing periodically, as though it were alive. Hard ridges arced through the dome, holding it upright like great ribs. There was a hole in the center, through which several white ends of bone protruded, and a pillar of yellow light rose out of it and up to the second level, where it culminated in a strange 'font' of glowing fire and power. In the very center of the cradle, hovering there as though suspended from a wire, spun a shimmering, ridged orb that pulsed regularly.

' _That must be the stone.'_ Sabine's eye was drawn back down to the ramps that led up to the cradle, and her stomach turned again. That same fleshy _something_ made up the walking paths, and every now and again a dark red liquid would drip from them. One hand rose up to cover Sabine's mouth before she could retch, and she tried not to dwell on the knowledge that she had to walk on them to reach the cradle.

' _This had_ better _be worth it, Uriel Septim,'_ she thought miserably, taking aim at the closest of the daedra.

It screamed when her arrow dug into its neck, attracting the attention of the second daedra. The second wore black robes like the one she'd killed earlier, and summoned a clannfear before shouting at her. As the smaller, lizard-like summon charged her, she took aim at the robed daedra. If she could just get a good shot…

She jumped back when the clannfear slashed its claws at her, then took aim and fired her arrow. The clannfear lunged at her, snapping its beak, and she thrust her bow forward without thinking, letting the creature's mouth clamp down on it. They struggled back and forth, the screams of the humanoid daedra echoing in the background. Suddenly, the weight on her bow vanished, and the clannfear wisped away into nothing. She looked up. The other daedra hovered at the edge of the second level, an arrow buried deep in its chest. After a moment, it fell forward, collapsing onto the floor below.

Sabine's shoulders sagged in relief,but she forced herself to keep moving. Her arrows were still dripping with daedric blood when she stood before the sigil stone. This close to it, she could feel a faint thrumming, almost a low hum of magicka in the air, though not any sort of magic she'd ever found before. She reached forward to take the stone, then hesitated when it pulsed again. There was no telling what would happen when she took it, and what if it wasn't safe to touch? She looked around for a moment, then her eyes fell onto the body of the daedra she'd killed first. Using the edge of her mace as a knife, she cut the end of his robes, tearing away a decent swatch of fabric. It was heavier than she'd anticipated, and seemed to shimmer slightly in the light, like a spider's silk. She sifted the fabric between her fingers for a moment, frowning, then draped it over her hands and took hold of the stone.

The effect was immediate. As soon as the edge of the sphere was removed from the glowing light, a shockwave of heat blasted out in all directions, knocking the wind out of her. Before she could recover, the wind then blew back toward the center, which had begun pulsing faster and faster. Sabine held tightly to the stone in her hands, drawing in on herself against the growing heat of the fire before her. She began gasping for air as the heat took everything out of her lungs, dropping to her knees.

' _I'm not going to make it,'_ she thought suddenly. ' _This whole tower's going to burn down around my ears if I can't get up.'_

She wrapped the stone tighter in the fabric, struggling to rise up onto her feet. Another shockwave, this one bigger than the last, knocked her back down again. The last thing she saw was a searing, blindingly bright light that lingered even after she'd shut her eyes. The ground fell away beneath her, fire roaring in her ears, and everything went black.


	10. Chapter 10: Martin

Muffled shouting reached her ears first, cutting through the black silence around her. She flinched, then groaned when she realized she was laying on something hard and rough. Had she fallen off of the tower? Her aching back and head told her it was entirely possible. Light bloomed behind her eyelids, making her flinch again. It took a little work to remember how to move her extremities, but she finally managed to get the stiff and heavy limbs under her, propping up on shaking arms as she struggled to open her eyes. Her voice sounded raw and scratchy to her ringing ears.

"What— what happened?" Her mouth was dry, stuffed with cotton that slowed her tongue and made her speech sluggish with thirst. She looked at the ground, and nearly cried when she recognized it as dirt and stone, not glowing lava rock and obsidian. Her fingers closed clumsily around a handful of earth as she stared, watching it sift lazily through her fingers. When she looked up, Savlian was running forward and shouting. She struggled to make out his words.

"You— ha! You did it! You closed the gate!" He clapped a gauntlet covered hand onto her shoulder, and her arms nearly collapsed under the sudden weight.

"What did I miss?" She shrugged off his arm and sat up, glancing around her again.

Her new, very spiky bow lay nearby, unbroken and still glowing faintly red in the afternoon light. Not far off lay a lump of black, shimmering fabric that was emanating a faint humming sound. The sigil stone, she remembered after a moment. She reached out her bloodstained fingers and tugged the bundle of cloth closer to her. The sigil stone rolled free of its wrappings and began sliding down the hill, and she grabbed hold of it without thinking. As her scratched up hand closed over the stone's surface, she sucked in a sharp breath. A heady pulse of something cool and refreshing washed over her, and suddenly she had her breath back. Her limbs steadied themselves, and she raised the stone up to eye level, tilting her head at it. It glowed faintly under her scrutiny, and she took another, steadying breath before rising to her feet. She swayed slightly, but when Savlian held out his hands to steady her, she waved him off.

"I'm fine." She stuffed the sigil stone into her pack, trading it for her water skin, then picked up her fallen bow. "What have I missed?" She asked again around mouthfuls of warm water. She wrinkled her nose slightly at it, but gulped it down all the same. The suffocating dryness in her mouth abated, and she was able to focus enough to make out individual faces among the remaining guards.

Savlian perked up. "Both of the men you sent back made it through okay. Ilend's resting in the healer's tent right now, and Menien's been refitted. We're ready to head inside when you are."

"You've not been inside yet?" When he shook his head, Sabine ran a hand over her face. "How long've I been gone?" She could feel the ache trying to settle into her bones as she looked up at the late afternoon sun. Hadn't it been earlier in the day when she'd entered the portal?

"Almost six hours."

"What?" Sabine exploded, shoving Savlian in the chest. "Two hours, I said! TWO! What in Oblivion have you been doing for the last four hours?!"

"I— we—"

"Those refugees could be dead! Martin too! And it'd be on your head!" She pushed him again, cutting off any further protestations.

Without another word, she turned on her heel, hair spinning out behind her, and shoved open the gate to the city, kicking the door aside for good measure. A pair of clannfear jumped when she stormed inside, but Sabine's arrows found them before they could reach her. Once she'd checked the courtyard to ensure it was clear, she turned back to the open gate and addressed the guards who had clustered around the closed oblivion gate, staring at her.

"You, you and you!" She pointed out three guards, who immediately jumped to attention. "Get started checking these buildings. If there are daedra, kill them. Refugees? Pull them out. Leave the dead for now, they're not going anywhere." She rounded on Savlian and two others next. "You three. You're coming with me. We're going to search the chapel and see if there are any survivors left. And you had better hope there are, Matius."

He at least had the good sense not to argue. Before she turned away, three heavily armored figures topped the rise and began walking toward them. Sabine squinted against the evening glare and stepped forward, waving to them. As the three men drew closer, she could see they were Imperial patrolmen, and she breathed a little easier.

The one in front addressed her with a casual salute. "We saw the smoke on the way past. What can we do to help?"

Savlian opened his mouth to speak, but Sabine cut him off. "There are a group of refugees still holed up in the chapel, or they were earlier today. Our top priority is to get out anyone who's left and see them safely to the camp down the hill, then search the remaining buildings for others. Daedra attacked the city sometime in the night, and there are still a few stragglers hanging about. If you find anything that's not human, kill it."

"Yes ma'am." He nodded and drew his sword, gesturing for her to lead the way. The other two equipped their bows and fell in line with the rest of the guards as they made their way to the chapel.

They encountered one or two more daedra on the way there, but the seven of them had no trouble. When Sabine and Savlian opened the doors to the chapel, they were greeted first with the tip of a sword.

"Hold there! — Captain?" A redguard woman in guard armor stood on the other end of the blade, which she sheathed. "Stendarr's mercy, it's good to see you, sir."

Two more guards stood nearby, looking just as haggard as Sabine felt. One of them nodded in greeting to her as the group filed in, and Sabine took a look around the chapel. Though the top of the chapel had been knocked off, the interior was mostly clear of rubble. Several bedrolls had been set up in the back, near the altar to the Nine and a small cache of dwindled supplies. A handful of refugees milled about near the altar, huddled together and trembling, or simply sitting and staring into space. One man alone seemed to be mostly himself, watching the others with deep sorrow in his gaze. Before Sabine could approach, however, the redguard woman addressed her directly, pulling her attention back to the conversation at hand.

"You closed the gate?" She was asking, her eyes wide. When Sabine nodded, she grinned. "That's fantastic! That means the way is clear to the refugee camp, right?"

"Yes." Sabine forced herself to focus, pushing thoughts of Martin away until the immediate danger had passed. "The refugees and two or three guards should make their way down to the camp. With the bulk of the fighting force inside the city, someone will need to protect the other survivors until we return. If the Imperial patrols have noticed the smoke, highwaymen won't be far behind. We can't leave them defenseless."

The woman nodded. "Berich can stay here to help the Captain find the Count. He has the key to the castle gate and can get them inside. Anton and I will take the survivors down to the camp."

Menien Goneld stepped forward, shifting slightly in his armor. "I'll go with them. You're right about the highwaymen, but three well-armed guards should be enough to hold them off for a while. Having a presence should buy us enough time for the rest of you to get back."

Savlian spoke up next. "That settles it, then." He looked back at Sabine. "I hate to ask you this, friend, but perhaps once you see the refugees out you could give us a hand? We don't know what we'll be facing when we enter the castle."

Sabine studied him for a moment as three figures began shepherding the refugees and their meager supplies out of the chapel. Finally, she sighed. "I really should look for Martin…"

She glanced around the now almost empty room. There were not bodies piled around, so she had to hope that he was one of the shivering survivors that had been herded out. Finally, she looked back at Savlian.

"Let me see if I can find him, and I'll come back as soon as I can."

Savlian nodded. "I'll take the men around and finish clearing out the courtyard. We'll meet you at the castle gate."

The redguard woman hesitated at the door. "Did you say Martin? Are you looking for the priest?"

"Yes, that's right." Sabine almost held her breath, relaxing only when the woman smiled.

"He's alive, if a little dazed. I saw him head out with the others just now."

Sabine's shoulders slumped in relief. She hadn't been too late. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then adjusted the quiver on her back. "Right, then. I'll follow you, Captain. Let's go find the Count while we've got the extra manpower."

* * *

They stood together in the Count's quarters, a trail of blood and dismembered daedra tracing their steps all the way back to the castle entrance. The Count stared unseeing up at them, his richly embroidered clothes saturated with blood as Savlian knelt before the body in defeat. Sabine stowed her bow and took a step back to give the Captain more room, choosing instead to wait by the door while he paid his final visit to the lord he had served.

"Failed… I've… I've failed him… "

His voice was soft, and for a moment Sabine wasn't standing in Kvatch's ruined castle, but in the sewers, looking at the Blade Baurus as he knelt before the Emperor's body. She shook her head to banish the image as Savlian continued mumbling.

"Just can't do this anymore… lost too many… I'm done." He rose slowly to his feet and removed his cuirass, holding it out to Sabine. His tunic was disheveled and torn, but his face was determined. "Here. Take it. Sell it. I don't care. But I'm through killing. I've had enough killing to last me a lifetime. I never want to wear this again."

Before Sabine could reply, he dropped the cuirass into her hands and walked away, leaving her staring after him with a frown. 'Some good that vow will do him if the survivors are attacked.' She thought sourly. 'Will he stand aside and be cut down in order to avoid violence, or will he raise his blade to defend his neighbors?'

She scoffed and folded the cloth-wrapped chainmail as best she could, tucking it under her arm. None of that mattered now. She'd kept her promise to find the count. Now she had to return to Martin. He'd waited far too long already. On her way out the door, another guard stopped her to hand her a shield. It was iron with a wooden face that was painted red, and someone had stencilled a wolf's head onto the front, the symbol of Kvatch.

"You were an honest to gods hero today, ma'am," he said solemnly, and she frowned at him. He grinned widely. "Everybody from here to the Imperial City oughta know what you've done by the week's end, ma'am. You closed that portal and saved us all. Thank you."

She only shook her head and readjusted her hold on the shield, unsure how to respond. It seemed to satisfy the man and his friends, however, and they each clapped her on the back in turn before holding the door open for her. Thoroughly unnerved by their attitudes now, Sabine hurried off back to the refugee camp and, more importantly, out of the city.

Down at the mismatched collection of tents, the old woman from before once more took Sabine's hand.

"You closed the gate." Her voice was almost reverent, and Sabine cringed to hear it. "You saved my Menien from Oblivion itself. Oh thank you, stranger."

"Menien?" Sabine stilled. "Menien Goneld? He's your husband?"

"Yes, and Savlian and I had surely given him up for lost." The woman was in tears as she suffocated Sabine in a tight hug. "Words cannot describe the joy you have given me, child. Thank you."

Sabine carefully and awkwardly extricated herself from the woman's enthusiasm, ducking her head as she wove between the refugees she'd seen on her way up. Were they all going to be like this? As she neared the area where the newer survivors were gathered, a gentle hand landed on her arm, and a low, soft voice spoke to her.

"Wait a moment, please."

Sabine stopped walking and took a deep breath, preparing herself for more awkward conversation. When she turned around, however, she frowned. This was not a man she'd seen before. He was young, with shoulder length brown hair, and seemed almost hesitant to seek her out, but there was a determination in his eyes that was quite different from the other refugees around them. He paused for a moment, his robes rustling slightly as he shifted on his feet, then he spoke again.

"You destroyed the Oblivion Gate, they say. You gave them hope." His head tilted slightly as he studied her. His voice had a deep, smooth quality, though it was somewhat hoarse from the smoke. It had the distinct comforting air of a man used to addressing the weary and downtrodden. "You helped them drive the daedra back. Is that true?"

Sabine nodded slowly. "I did what had to be done."

The man exhaled quietly, giving an expression that was not quite a smile. "Not many would go so far as you have, and for people you do not know." He frowned slightly, his eyes fixing on her face again. "Who are you?"

"My name is Sabine." She shifted her pack a little, making it more comfortable on her back. "I truly only came to find Martin, one of the priests here. I didn't know the city had been attacked until after I arrived."

"Do you need a priest?" His face grew a little wary, though the exhaustion was bone deep. "I don't think I'll be much help to you. I prayed to Akatosh all through that terrible night, but no help came, only more daedra." He reached up to push his hair away from his face, then shook his head. "But I am Martin, if that is who you seek. What do you need of me?"

Now it was Sabine's turn to frown, as she looked him over again. Plain robes, nondescript shoes, hands soft from a life spent in contemplation and study. Not at all what she had expected, as far as emperors and heirs were concerned. Though his face was indeed similar to the old man's who had haunted her the last few nights. His eyes in particular, immediately reminded her of Uriel and his dying plea for her aid. When Martin shifted under her gaze, his hands twisting the ends of the belt around his robes awkwardly, she realized she was staring.

She cleared her throat. "Well," she feigned a more cheerful disposition, suffering through a small smile on his behalf. "You're not quite what I expected, I must admit." She shifted her pack around and stowed the cuirass away inside it as she spoke. "I was actually sent to retrieve you. A Brother Jauffre, in Chorrol." She strapped the shield to the back of her bag, then slung it back over her shoulder, completely covering her back with the face of the shield. "He's been hoping to speak with you about your family. There… well, there's quite a lot going on right now that you should be made aware of."

"My family?"

"Yes. Your father, specifically." She paused to give him a softer, more genuine smile this time. "You look quite a bit like him, in fact. I'm surprised no one's mentioned it to you before, really. You have the same eyes as he did. Strong-willed, but too all-seeing. It always looks like you know a little more than you should."

"You… you knew my father?" He leaned back a little. "No, you… you must have the wrong man. My father was a farmer. Why would you know him?"

She shook her head slowly. "The man who raised you was a farmer. Your father was someone else entirely." She sighed quietly. "But truly, this isn't the best place to speak of such matters."

He glanced around them at the other refugees, then back at her. "Where would you have me go?"

"FIrst? To Skingrad for a warm bed and a relatively safe place to rest." She bit back a yawn as though to emphasize her point. "From there, I should bring you to Weynon Priory. I'll explain whatever I can on the way, but please, Martin," she turned her large grey eyes on him again, "it's not safe here for you."

She watched with baited breath as he thought it over, then relaxed when he sighed.

"Very well," he said at last. "You have saved these people, and me from the daedra. I will trust you in this. Lead on, friend."

As they turned to leave the remains of Kvatch, the setting sun was low on the horizon, bathing the landscape in a fiery copper and gold that reminded Sabine all too well of flaming portals and burning daedra. She could only hope that Jauffre already had a plan in place for when Martin arrived. She wasn't too keen on entering another door to Oblivion just yet.

* * *

 **A/N: Whew! Another 3,000 words and another chapter down! _And Martin is finally here!_ Now all we have to do is make it back to Weynon Priory (after a night's rest in Skingrad and a fresh pack of supplies, no doubt). Now that Martin's officially in the cast, things are about to get a _lot_ more interesting. **

**And holy** ** _crap!_ Over 240 views! Thanks again for reading this story, I hope you're all enjoying it!**


	11. Chapter 11: A Spanner in the Works

Early Morning, 4 Hearthfire, 3E433

After nearly an hour of mindless tossing and turning, Sabine finally sat up in her rented bed. She pushed her curtain of too-long wavy hair away from her face and squinted at the daylight coming through the window. To her surprise, Martin was already awake. His bed across the room was freshly made, and he sat at the desk nearby, absorbed in a book he'd likely found laying around the room. He looked over at her with a hesitant smile, raising his book a little.

"I hope I didn't wake you. It is quite early."

She yawned, stretching wide, then shook her head. "I've slept terribly the last fortnight. It's not your fault."

He made a small hum of acknowledgement as he closed his book. "Yes, you did a great deal of tossing and turning last night." When he looked up, his too-blue eyes seemed to stare right through her. "You mumble in your sleep. Is everything all right?"

She groaned. Talking in her sleep? That was _all_ she needed. When she looked back up, he was waiting patiently at the desk for an answer. She sighed, pulling her boots out from under the bed and putting them on.

"In all honesty? No, I suspect not." She straightened out her boot, then stood up. "We should get walking if we're going to get to Weynon Priory before dark. Jauffre is likely already sick of waiting."

Martin studied her for a moment, then placed his book on the desk with a sigh. "You aren't one for sharing, are you?"

"No, not really." She shrugged, pulling out her pack and removing a few septims from her coinpurse. "My last job was a bit more dangerous than this. Loose lips sink ships and all that."

" _More_ dangerous?"

"Well, there were no literal doors to Oblivion, but there was a lot of fighting, digging around in things I shouldn't've, and the heavy risk of incarceration or betrayal."

"How did you get out of that?"

She shook her head. "I was betrayed, arrested, and fought my way out." When he leaned back in his chair to stare at her, she nodded her head toward the door. "Are you ready to leave? I need to pick up a few minor supplies before he head out. We can talk on the way."

"Very well, then." Martin rose and gestured to the door. "I should like to get on to Weynon Priory as well. Lead the way, my friend."

* * *

On the long walk to Weynon Priory, Sabine began telling Martin of her escape from the Imperial Prison. Instead of the judgemental stares she had expected, he seemed fully engrossed in her story, hanging on to her every word. When she concluded with the assassination of the Emperor, he grew very quiet.

"That's not the end of it though," she said quietly. "Nearly every night for the last two weeks I've relived that night in my sleep. I see his face before me again. I hear his voice in my head." She took a deep breath, then recited the lines that had haunted her so.

"Find my son, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion." She looked over at Martin. "And now you know why it was so imperative I get to you before the daedra did." She gave a nervous laugh. "I don't doubt how crazy I sound. If someone had told me when I was arrested that this would be where I ended up, I'd have probably laughed in their faces or had them committed."

"And now?" He was watching her face curiously.

"Now I feel like _I'm_ the one that needs committing," she admitted, stepping around a cluster of branches at the edge of the road. "I've been to Oblivion, heard the voices of Daedric Princes, and done a lot of things I'm not proud of. But even I, in all my skepticism, have to admit that storming a city was never something I expected to do."

Martin chuckled quietly. "According to the stories I heard outside Kvatch, it's as though you've never done anything else in your life." He looked sidelong at her. "Did you _really_ slap the Captain?"

"And Menien Goneld." When he laughed again, she shrugged. "He was trying to be a martyr, demanding I leave him behind, and all that nonsense. I knocked a little sense into him."

He looked very much the part of eager listener when he looked at her again. "I would very much like to hear that tale, I think."

She grinned. "As you wish, my liege."

Her mocking bow made him scoff and protest, but she launched into the tale anyway. As she retold her journey through the gate and back, the trees around them grew closer together, turning the bright sunlight into a soft mottled green. Deer bounded through the undergrowth, startling away at their approach, and here and there the fluttering of birds' wings echoed overhead. The general quiet of the forest made it sound as though the land itself were listening to her story, and she gestured widely as she talked. When she finally recounted her reappearance into Cyrodiil, and her abrasive greeting to Captain Matius, Martin began laughing again.

"You really did it." He sounded incredulous. "I thought they were exaggerating." When she shrugged again, he shook his head. "You even made him show deference to you, I saw that for myself in the chapel. He isn't one to roll over easily, that much is apparent by how well he defended against the daedra. Yet you show up and he simply steps aside." He shook his head. "Have you ever considered that you might be in the wrong line of work?"

"Not really," she admitted. "Though I haven't really thought about it. I enjoyed my last job, and I worked with some good people." She hesitated. "Well, not good in the sense _you're_ used to, I'm sure, but they were good to _me_ all the same. There are three in particular that I'm very fond of, and even a retired member of our group I still hear from on occassion." She smiled. "When I'm through here, I'll likely go back to them."

"You speak as if they're family to you."

"In a way, they are. I was still struggling when I found them, and they gave me purpose. The retired member, he and a friend of his, they picked me out and taught me what I needed to know to survive. They gave me work, somewhere to stay. When I got better and better at the job, they were proud of me. I'd never had that before." She laughed a little. "Now, I have free reign over what I do. I answer to no one anymore, save the late Emperor, it seems." She paused here to wrinkle her nose. "I shall be glad indeed when he stops haunting my sleep. It makes it very difficult to do my preferred work."

Martin gave another of his quiet chuckles, then looked up at the top of the hill they were climbing. He frowned. "Do you hear shouting?"

Sabine looked up, and her expression soured. "Shit." She drew her mace. "The Priory is under attack. Stay back!"

Without looking at Martin, she ran the rest of the way up, skidding to a halt when she saw her nightmares once again before her. Three men clothed in red cloth and black bound armor were trying to break down the chapel doors, while two more chased after the shepherd.

The poor Dunmer saw Sabine and came running, waving his arms to get her attention. " _Help!"_

Sabine waited for him to pass her, then intercepted the closest of the assassins with her mace, knocking the man off balance. He roared at her, swinging his blade. Sabine brought her mace up, the metal clanging against his dagger. Blood pounded in her ears as she turned, swinging the blunt weapon around. A heavy crack echoed the jarring in her arms when the mace made contact with his side. The assassin staggered hard, swinging at her again. She knocked him down with another blow from her mace, then raised it up to finish him off.

Something hard and heavy collided with her side, knocking her to the ground. Her weapon clattered across the cobblestones as the second assassin loomed over her. He raised his blade, sneer wide behind his mask. Sabine's hands caught his forearms as she struggled to hold the blade away. He continued bearing down on her, the tip inching closer to her throat. Hot breath blew across her face as the dagger caught on the collar of her shirt. A burning pain scratched its way across her shoulder. She cried out, pushing harder against his hands as she struggled to throw him off. _Why_ was he so heavy? His armor wasn't even _real._

A second blade, tinged with frost, appeared at the corner of her vision. The assassin jerked, grunted, then fell limp against her. The dagger in his hands cut her cheek on its way to the ground, then someone was pulling the body off of her. When she looked up, Martin was holding his hand out to her.

"Are you all right?" He pulled her to her feet, looking her over.

She gave a weak nod, trying to catch her breath. "Thank you," she wheezed.

Before he could respond, the shepherd spoke up. "Brother Jauffre is in the chapel! Three more of them went inside after him!"

Sabine picked up her mace and shook herself. "Come on."

Martin nodded and followed her, his dagger at the ready. The doors to the chapel had been forced open, and the sound of fighting could be heard inside. They jumped over the splintered wood at the threshold and joined the fray. Sabine managed to catch her assassin by surprise, bringing him down with minimal fuss. When she turned toward the other one, Martin was cleaning off his dagger with the hem of the dead man's robe. He looked up to see her staring, and shrugged.

"I wasn't always a priest," he said quietly.

Sabine pointed a finger at him. "Now _that_ is a story you're going to have to tell me one day." She turned to look at Jauffre, who stepped over the nearest of his three corpses and approached her. She put away her mace. "Are you hurt?"

"No." He looked over at Martin with a frown, then back at Sabine. "It was my understanding you would not fetch him."

She crossed her arms. "I said I was not yours to command."

"And yet you have brought him."

"He _asked_ to come here. I told him what had happened, and he agreed to meet with you."

"If he hadn't, would you have simply wandered with him indefinitely?"

"Well it isn't as though Weynon Priory is any safer than Kvatch, _is it?"_ Sabine's voice rose slightly.

"Peace, friends." Martin's deeper, soothing voice washed over her as he stepped between them. "This isn't the time or the place to fight."

Sabine hesitated, then sighed. "Yes, of course. You're right." She brushed a lock of bloody hair away from her face. "We need somewhere to lay low. Preferably somewhere that _doesn't_ take in strangers at a moment's notice." She looked back at Jauffre. "I hope you have something already planned."

"I _do_ , in fact." He gestured toward the chapel's broken doors. "We should leave. Prior Maborel was killed in the attack, but his horse is still stabled outside. Come."

At the stable behind the Priory, Sabine stopped to speak with the shepherd again. "Will the two of you be all right?"

He gave a tired smile. "Yes, I believe so. Brother Piner has family in another city. We shall head there first, then decide where to go from there."

She nodded, then pressed a small bag into his hands. "Be careful, then."

"Thank you." He squeezed her uncut shoulder. "Do try not to get yourselves killed."

"We shall do our best." She forced a smile and hauled herself up into the saddle, then nodded to Jauffre.

"It shouldn't take long," he said as their horses started forward. "Cloud Ruler Temple isn't far."

* * *

 **A/N: Holy SHIT, you guys! Over 380 views! I did a little dance in front of my computer this morning, I got so excited. *cough* Anyway, on to my _actual_ note. . . (You guys are awesome.)**

 ***COUGH* Sup! Sorry to those of you that really like Jauffre, this isn't really intended to be _bashing_ , per se, I just always thought he was kind of a dick. He's just sort of gruff and 'superior', you know? No matter who you are or what you've done before the main quest starts, he always sounds like he's better than you, and you're just some nobody that wandered in off the street with the Amulet of Kings. It was really annoying for my character who was Champion of the Arena _and_ Guildmaster of the Fighter's Guild, _and_ fairly famous for helping people and solving problems. He was a _good guy_ , and Jauffre acted like he was a criminal. **

**Okay, soap box over, I promise lol. Anyway, this chapter is a bit shorter than the last one, I know, but it still clocks in at 2,035 words, so we're good. Martin's first attempt at public speaking comes next, so stay tuned!**


	12. Chapter 12: Cloud Ruler Temple

As they rode onward toward Bruma, Jauffre filled them in on what had happened since Sabine left. Martin shot her a curious glance when Jauffre described her departure as 'storming out', but didn't remark on it. Jauffre said that a group of people in red robes came through, claiming to be on a pilgrimage. When they asked Prior Maborel to speak to Jauffre, and he asked them what their business was, they cut him down. He got up to the point where the Amulet of Kings had been stolen, and Sabine virtually exploded.

"They _stole_ it?!" She stared at Jauffre from atop her borrowed horse as they passed the walls of Bruma. "What happened to ' _oh, it'll be safe with me. You can't be trusted. No one would_ dare _rob a priory house'_?" She scoffed. "And after all the shit I went through to get it back in the first place…"

"Yes, well I could hardly trust an ex-convict, could I?" Jauffre huffed.

"That didn't stop you from foisting me on your future _Emperor_ ," Sabine shot back, waving her arms for emphasis. "You didn't trust me with a piece of _jewelry_ , but you trusted me with a man's _life!"_ She scoffed. "That's _really_ messed up, oh Mighty Grandmaster."

Martin rode between them, looking left and right in turn with their replies. He sighed quietly, but didn't join in on their bickering. When the rising walls of Cloud Ruler Temple finally came into view, he relaxed marginally in the saddle. Both Sabine and Jauffre cut their comments short and rode silently up to the gates. When they passed through the heavy double doors, the fort's standing force of Blades had lined up on either side of the walkway at the top of the stairs, waiting for Martin's arrival. Sabine cocked an eyebrow at their eagerness, but said nothing as she followed Martin up the steps.

Jauffre came to a stop in front of them all, pulling Martin over to stand beside him. He spoke loudly, getting the attention of every Blade. "Blades! Dark times are upon us. The Emperor and his sons were slain on our watch. The Empire is in chaos."

Sabine cringed a little where she stood beside Martin. ' _Shouldn't this be more encouraging?'_ She glanced at Martin as Jauffre continued.

"But there is yet hope! Here is Martin Septim, true son of Uriel Septim!"

' _Why, were the other sons slaughtered 'false' sons?'_ Sabine bit back her scoff and tried to give Martin a reassuring smile when he shot her a worried look.

"Hail, Dragon Born! Hail, Martin Septim! Hail!" The Blades all raised their Akaviri swords and chanted in welcome. Martin's nervousness grew when Jauffre addressed him directly.

"Your highness, the Blades are at your command. You will be safe here until you can take up your throne." Jauffre seemed rather pleased with himself, and Sabine was reminded of her old master, how he always preened to see them perform well. It almost made her laugh.

When they all seemed to be waiting for Martin to speak, he swallowed and stepped forward. "Jauffre, all of you. I know you all expect me to be Emperor. I'll do my best, but this is all new to me. I'm not used to giving speeches, but I want you to know that I appreciate your welcome here." He glanced at Sabine, then back at the group. "I hope I prove myself worthy of your loyalty in the coming days. Thank you." He stepped back again, and Jauffre took over.

"Well then. Thank you, Martin. We'd all best get back to our duties, eh Captain?" Jauffre turned away to speak to one of the other Blades, and Martin sidled over to Sabine, still looking unnerved.

"Not much of a speech, was it? Didn't seem to bother them, though." He gave an almost smile.

"You'll be fine," Sabine shook her head with a snort. "Honestly, I think you could talk about anything and they'd stand there and eat it up. Relax a little." She nudged him, and he smiled a bit wider.

"Yes, I should. Still." He widened his eyes a little. "The _Blades_ saluting me and hailing me as Martin Septim?" He caught himself. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I know I would be dead now if not for you, Sabine. You didn't have to come for me when you did." When he looked up to see her surprise, the smile at last became genuine. " _Thank you_ , my friend."

"Ah… it's all right." She shifted a little, then changed the subject. "So, Emperor, huh?"

"Everyone suddenly expects me to know what to do. How to behave." He deflated a little. "They want an Emperor to tell them what to do, and I haven't the faintest idea…" He looked back at Sabine.

She relaxed, straightening up. "First things first, we've got to get the Amulet back." She rolled her eyes. "If I'd have known he'd just hide it in a box, I'd've brought it with me to Kvatch." Her expression softened a little when she looked back at Martin. "Still, I suppose I shouldn't be _too_ hard on him. It was stolen from me as well, and not by assassins. But I got it back once, and I'll do it again. We just need to know who these freaks in bound armor are and where they'd've taken it."

Martin relaxed visibly, though his smile fell. "Of course, The Amulet of Kings. So we… ah, _I_ , can take it to the Temple of the One and light the Dragonfires. And stop the Oblivion invasion." He looked worried again here, and Sabine clapped a hand on his shoulder.

She squeezed his shoulder, adopting a teasing tone. "And _you'll_ be Emperor."

"The Emperor?" He gave a quiet laugh, and Sabine counted it a success. "That's an idea that will take some getting used to." He shook his head, and she removed her hand. "In any case, we need the Amulet first."

Sabine nodded. "I'll talk to Jauffre and see if he has any more genius ideas." When Martin raised his eyebrows at her, she sighed. "All right, I'll phrase it more politely than that," she huffed. "But I still need to talk to him." She hesitated, glancing back at the priest, who motioned for her to go on.

"Don't worry about me, my friend. I know I'm in good hands here."

Sabine sighed, then moved away. "Yes, I suppose so. I'll meet back with you when I know more."

She made her way over to Jauffre, but he spoke before she could.

"You have proven yourself a loyal servant of the Empire," he said begrudgingly. "Worthy as any of the Blades to stand beside Martin during this crisis." He paused. "And somehow he seems to relax around you. It's clear he trusts you after Kvatch, so you will have a bedroll prepared in the west wing, where the other Blades sleep. Which brings me to my next point."

He looked her over, then settled on her face. "As the Grandmaster of the Blades, I extend to you an olive branch. I would be honored to accept you into our order, if you'll join."

Sabine blinked rapidly, trying to process the sudden turn. "Become a _Blade?"_ She leaned back a bit as she stared at him. When he nodded, she glanced in Martin's direction, but he seemed to have gone inside. She looked back at Jauffre. "I'll take the olive branch, gladly," she began, "but… A Blade? I… no. No I don't think that's a good idea."

She shook her head. "Besides, we still have to find the Amulet of Kings. There's really no time for that now."

"You're right," he said, though he looked a bit miffed by her refusal. "We must try to recover the Amulet before the enemy takes it out of our reach. You should go back to the Imperial City. Baurus is there, he may have learned something about the assassins that can help us."

"Baurus? From the Emperor's personal guard?"

"Yes," Jauffre seemed surprised that she remembered. "You'll find him at Luther Broad's Boarding House in the Elven Gardens District."

"Right, I know where that is." Sabine shifted the mace hanging against her side a little, then sighed. "As soon as I can check this armor and make repairs, I'll meet him there."

Jauffre nodded, then hesitated, his features softening. "Give Baurus my regards, will you? Tell him he should not blame himself for the Emperor's death." After a moment, he spoke again. "He did well, to send you to me."

Sabine looked taken aback once more, but agreed. "I'll tell him."

On her way down the steps, she nodded to one of two Blades that hailed her, but didn't stop until she'd reached the horses. Prior Maborel's stood a little off from the others, its paint coat oddly bright against the stone. She petted its muzzle, then hauled herself up into the saddle.

She sighed to the horse. "All right, come on. We've got a long way to go."

With a snap of the reins, they set off, Sabine letting the horse guide itself down the path toward Bruma while she turned over the day's events in her mind. Finally, she scoffed.

' _Infiltrators don't make good Blades.'_

* * *

 **A/N: Hey, guys! And holy crap, over 500 views! Thanks so much for reading, and for my five reviews!**

 **I'm sorry this chapter is both shorter than the others, and a bit slow in coming. I had a small issue with a corrupted save file, and actually had to start _completely over_ , because Kvatch just... disappeared. Yep. Right off of the face of Cyrodiil. The church was still there, strangely enough, but the steps were gone and I couldn't reach the door, and the walls, rubble, daedra, civilians, camp outside... all of it. Gone. Poof. ****So I had to start over and rebuild Sabine's character like I did the last time, but ugh. It was tedious.**

 **Also, on the news front! This story will be moving a _bit_ slower from now on, while I get my other projects in order, and work on my passion project (a fantasy trilogy about a snarky gay thief and his blonde, blind best friend. Fuckery abounds). But I _do_ have the whole of this story laid out and planned for, it's just a matter of getting the actual chapters written. I promise I'm not forgetting about it, it's just not my priority project anymore.**

 **Thanks again for all your feedback, views, and interest! You guys are great!**


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